Forever This Way
by CelestialHeavens1
Summary: In 1912, the Titanic set sail with the young Elena Flemming Gilbert, her mother and her fiancé. Her whole life was set in stone, until she met HRH the Conte di Tuscana. Loosely based on James Cameron's Titanic. I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

This is based on James Cameron's movie Titanic. I own absolutely nothing.

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><p>"Easy now," Stefan Branson ordered his best friend, Jeremy Gibbons, who held in his hands the key to his success or failure in life. From far under the ocean, in the Titanic's ruins, a safe was being pulled up. It was from a Mr. Niklaus von Swartzchild ll's room and supposedly contains a diamond necklace about the size of a half of a fist and is worth about 1.5 million. It wasn't so much the size of the necklace that concerned Stefan, but rather that Maddox and Greta von Swartzchild had offered him seven hundred fifty thousand dollars to finder it amongst the Titanic's ruins.<p>

"Ready?" he asked the cameras before he opened the safe. Water flooded out. There were papers, many papers, but no necklace.

Finding the Heart of Blood, as the necklace was called, had been a dream of Stefan's since his father first told him about it ages ago. You see, it was Stefan's grandfather that sold Niklaus von Swartzchild ll the necklace to give to his fiancé, Elena. Shortly after the boat sunk, an insurance claim was made on the necklace. Determined to find it, Stefan told the von Swartzchilds he could recover their grandfather's necklace. They hastily agreed.

"No," he gasped in shock, "No!" he shouted louder, the reality sinking in, "It has to be here. It has to." It wasn't there, but the crew took the papers into their lab aboard the ship. This was one of the first successful recovery missions of anything off the Titanic, and they were determined to learn what secrets these papers held.

"Stefan, it's going to be okay," Jeremy lied to his best friend, knowing it probably wouldn't be. The von Swartzchilds would remove their funding and they wouldn't be able to recover the necklace ever.

"Mr. Branson," one of the scientists said, coming forward, "There's something I think you need to see."

Stefan and Jeremy shared a glance, shrugging and following the scientist into the room that held the newly recovered items. There was a drawing in one of the tubs of a naked woman that the scientist led them to, but that's not why he had them look. She was wearing the Heart of Blood.

The Heart of Blood contained a large blood red diamond. It is in a bed of a rich gold, cut into a heart shape on a thick, twisted gold chain. On the drawing, though it lacks color, it still is impressive. Stefan breathed in deeply.

"Picture!" Stefan called, "Give me a picture of the necklace." One was passed to him. The necklace in the photo and the necklace in the drawing were an incredible match.

"So if we find this woman, we can find the necklace?" Jeremy asked. Stefan nodded.

"Get cameras in here. Get our number on the screen. We want to find out who this woman is," Stefan commanded.

"And in other news," the news reported announced, "Treasure hunters Stefan Branson and Jeremy Gibbons have found an incredible discover from the world's best known ship wreck. They are with us live by satellite from his research ship in the Atlantic. Hello… Stefan, Jeremy?"

The screen changed pictures to Stefan's smiling picture and Jeremy's boyish face. "Hello Rose. As you can see, we're in the middle of the ocean with a private claim man to recover something very important to one family… and to help rediscover the pasts of hundreds of lives that were lost that fateful April morning. We are talking about the Titanic."

Two very old people sat facing each other. The man's bright blue eyes were as alive as ever, and the woman's brown ones cropped by wrinkled olive skin and dark brown hair. The man, though reaching one hundred four, had hair as dark as could be and a smirk plastered across his face, a set of cards held in surprisingly steady hands.

A woman in her late twenties, looking remarkably like the younger woman in her youth except with curls, walked in the room. She opened a book, a so-called "Founder's Journal" from the original founders of Mystic Falls back in the 1860s.

"Probably the most incredible thing that we've found so far," Stefan told the reporter, "is this drawing of a passenger dated the night before the ship sank."

On the screen, a picture came on of the drawing of the young woman.

"Katherine, turn that up please," the older woman commanded, "Damon, look." The old man turned towards the television, his eyes opening wide in realization.

"And to think," Stefan continued, "things like this, pasts of people that died that night, are all locked below the surface for eighty-four years. If we can uncover the rest of this, historians are going to have field day." The older woman rose up out of her chair, and Damon followed, both husband and wife walked to the sofa and sat down. Damon's arm went around his wife and she curled into his side, laying her head on his shoulder, an automatic reaction after nearly eighty-four years of marriage.

"Any information about the woman in the picture," Rose, the reporter, spoke, the picture showing on the screen again, "should be reported to this number."

Mir One and Two were both ready to be launched. Mir Two, one of the Russian submersibles searching the Titanic, was in the water. Stefan was about to climb in Mir One when Trevor ran to him.

"Stefan!" Stefan turned quickly. "Satellite call for you."

"Take a message!" Trevor shook his head.

"You want to take this call. It's about the necklace. You'll have to speak up though. She pretty old," Trevor told him, handing Stefan the phone.

"Stefan Branson. What can I do for you…?" He looked to Trevor who held up a piece of paper saying Elena DeSangue. "Mrs. DeSangue." He lifted a glass to his lips and took a drink.

"I was wondering. Have you found the Heart of Blood yet?" He choked on the water and nearly dropped the phone.

"Can you tell us who the woman in the photo is?"

"It's me," the old woman, Elena, said through the phone, "I'm the woman in the picture.


	2. Chapter 2

The large helicopter landed on the deck of the boat. Jeremy frowned unhappily beside Stefan.

"She's probably like the Russian chick, you know that one… um… Anesthesia. Elena Flemming Gilbert died on the Titanic. She would have had to be over a hundred. Look, this woman, her name is Elena Salvatore. She married an Italian Count-slash-prince, who is the son of some marquis-slash-prince, and, ironically, had a room on the Titanic, but no one ever saw him but his ticket was submitted. They had a few kids and settle down during the world wars and once it's all over, he's not a Count anymore, but he still a prince and practically a trust fund baby."

"The only people who know about that necklace, that know the story behind it, are here on this boat or dead. She knew!" Stefan shouted, "She knows!"

There were three suitcases that came down from the helicopter. An impossibly old man and woman ride down on the little ramp someone put from the helicopter to the deck on their wheelchairs, a young woman with long, dark curly hair that looked exactly like the woman in the portrait trailed behind them, her face bored. The man and woman look fragile and ancient amongst the modern, high tech gear, the giant equipment, and the buff, grungy crew.

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><p>Inside the small room, Damon and Elena faced each other, finishing their card game while Katherine unpacked a few pictures and a photo album. There was a picture of the couple at their wedding, a family photo of their Royal Highnesses Conte and Contessa di Toscana, their son who look remarkably like his father, along with his Royal Highness Marchese di Toscana and a young woman, maybe thirteen or fourteen- the future Marchesa di Toscana. Another photo showed a beautiful young woman, one who looked almost identical to Katherine did now, except Katherine had curls. She was in a nineteen-ten styled gown, a man and a woman with her.<p>

"Is your stateroom all right, uh, your Highnesses- err, Royal Highnesses?" Stefan asked the couple.

"Mr. and Mrs. DeSangue," Damon corrected without looking up from the cards, "It's the surname my family has gone by for generations and what I've gone by since before I met mio amore. And the room is very nice." Suddenly, he smirked. "I'm sorry love," he told Elena, laying his cards down on the table, "Full house."

"I'm sorry Damon, but straight flush," she told her husband, giving him a smirk to match his as she laid her cards down on the table. The elder man muttered an Italian curse word under his breath.

Stefan and Jeremy exchanged a glance and Jeremy rolled his eyes. Elena stood, walking to the dresser and held the picture up for the two younger men to see.

"This is the only photo I have of my parents," she told them. "My father died in nineteen eleven and left us neck high in debt. My mother had been breed as a wealthy woman. She had no idea how to live with no money. So much that she would marry me to a man I had no earthy desire to marry." Elena laughed, "It turned out the one we thought had the least had the most," she glanced toward her husband, "had even the stars at his command." She sighed, setting the picture back down. She looked back up to the two men.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Elena looked at her husband, who had stood and walked towards the bed. She smiled at him and reached for his hand.

"I'd like to see my picture now."

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><p>Damon's arm wrapped around Elena's waist, holding her to him, as they gazed down at drawing submerged in water. She breathed in deeply.<p>

Memories of a man with a conte crayon sketching over paper flashed by. As she stared at the paper, her mind saw the incredibly blue eyes looking up at her through long dark lashes, a hint of blush on his cheeks. Elena placed a hand on her husband's cheek, smiling. "Your eyes are still as blue as that day." Damon made a light snorting sound and Stefan picked up the reference picture.

"Tsar Constantine ll of Bulgaria had found a diamond the color of blood when he went to Tărnovo. The diamond disappeared after the Ottomans took over in 1422 after his death. It is rumored that the diamond in this necklace is the same as that one. It was about the size of half of my fist."

"It was a dreadfully heavy thing. I wore it three times, one for this drawing, once for Klaus, and once on solid land." Katherine looked at the picture.

"You really think this is you, Grandma?" Damon smiled at his granddaughter.

"It is her. Wasn't she beautiful? You two look so much alike," he mused, his voice wishful, "except the hair. Your hair is curly. Her hair was straight as can be. You look more like little Rose."

"Aunt Rose isn't little," Katherine argued.

"I was able to track down an old insurance claim on it that was settled in absolute secrecy. Do you know who made the claim, Elena?"

Damon and Elena shared a haunted glance before they both whispered, "Von Swartzchild."

"The first one," Elena said softly, "Klaus wouldn't have."

"Niklaus Von Swartzchild I," Stefan said nodding, "The German immigrant who bought up land cheap in America and built factories on the land, making fortunes. He claimed the diamond went down with the ship. See what the date is?"

"14/4/1912? April 14, 1912?" Katherine questioned, "Are you saying she was wearing the diamond the day before the ship sank?" He nodded.

"And that would make you my new best friend, Elena." Damon, though old, still had his ability to strike fear into people's hearts, and one glare was all it took to make Stefan take a step back, "Here are some of the items recovered from your stateroom."

Elena lifted her hand to carefully hold the tortoise shell combs in her hands. Damon took the set, carefully lifting her hair and placing the combs in before she lifted the matching mirror. Her fingers ran over the back of the mirror, flipping it to look in it. She smiled sadly. "The reflection has changed quite a bit," she said wistfully.

"So, now ladies and gentlemen, let's take a ride on the Titanic," Jeremy said with a smirk. He hit play. "She hits the iceberg on the starboard and punctures the side. The water floods the bottom of the ship, and it leans forward until it can't hand the weight then, riippp, right down the middle. The stern levels as the bow flaps forward, but the bow pulls the stern vertical and the bow detaches. The stern bobs like a cork until it floods and finally sinks at 2:20 AM." The only sign of emotion from the couple was Damon's hand clenched until his knuckles were white. "So the bow pulls out of it dive and flies about half a mile away, and kaboom!"

"Thank you for the lovely image, Mr. Gibbons," Elena said, her voice tense but face showing nothing. Jeremy smiled sheepishly, "The experience was different though, much different." Stefan pulled a tape recorder out. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, especially if this story was true.

"Will you both share it with us?" Elena looked at her husband, her mind's eye staring at the first class dining salon door as a steward opens it for her. She gasped. Damon had his eyes clenched shut.

"It's been eighty-four years-" she began.

"Please, just try to remember anything."

"Do you want to hear this or not, kid?" Damon asked, speaking for the first time since they had remembered their awful experiences with Klaus von Swartzchild. His voice was hard, sounding less like an old man and more like the twenty-year-old who had boarded the Titanic.

"It's been eighty-four years since I have first lain eyes on Damon, eighty-four years since I first stepped upon what was the largest ship in the world, and yet I can still smell the fresh paint. I remember how the china had never been used, the silver was freshly shined, and how I was excited about how I would be the first to sleep in those sheets on that bed. The Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams. And it was all of the things it's been called, but it was so much more."


	3. Chapter 3

I'd just like to say thank you real quick to everyone who has read and reviewed. It means a lot to me.

Disclamer: I own nothing. James Cameron owns Titanic. Julie Plec, Kevin Williamson, and L. J. Smith own the Vampire Diaries.

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><p>Billowing clouds of slate colored smoke rose up from the fawn-colored smokestacks. A mountain-like structure sat a float in the cerulean waters. It was the tenth day of April of 1912 in Southampton. As the clock neared the twelfth hour, the pier became blackened with throngs of well-wishers and passengers alike.<p>

A burgundy Renault was lifted into the air by a crane and lowered towards hatch number two. A collection of horse drawn carriages, motorcars, and lorries littered the piers as they slowly made their way towards the boat. Meaningful farewells, tearful goodbyes, and cries of 'Bon voyage' could be heard moving throughout the crowd.

A white Renault lead the silvery Daimler-Benz made way through the crowd, pressing a hole though the cramped pier. The commands of the White Star Line officers could be heard as they checked quickly though the people.

The Renault stopped and the driver rushed to open the door for his employer. Helping a stunning young woman dressed in a dark purple and white traveling suit with a large purple hat out onto the pavement, he rushed to help the other passengers down.

The gorgeous young woman had straight, dark brown hair and piercing chocolate eyes. Her large cream-colored hat covered smooth olive skin and cool eyes that showed nothing as she took in the scene before her.

"I really don't see what all this fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania," the girl, merely seventeen-years-old age, remarked. A man stepped down from the other side. Thirteen-years the girl's senor, the man was often called Pittsburgh's most handsome and eligible bachelor up until a little over a year ago when he became engaged to the beauty before him. Niklaus von Swartzchild ll was the heir to a prominent steel fortune. His father, Niklaus von Swartzchild I, had built many factories upon his arrival to America, ensuring that his eldest and only surviving son would live a well off life.

"Oh Elena, don't be ridiculous. The Titanic is over a hundred feet longer than the Mauritania and it is simply far more luxurious," Niklaus, or Klaus as he was known, told his fiancé. Elena Flemming Gilbert made no acknowledgement of his comment, but rather studied the mob and the ship.

Elijah Smith, Klaus' personal valet and ex-Pinkerton, stepped forward from the Daimler-Benz that was carrying a multitude of steamer trunks and Bonnie and Emily Bennett, Elena and her mother's maids.

Klaus turned to Isobel Flemming Gilbert, Elena's mother, and held out a hand to the society empress from Philadelphia. As she reached the ground, he offered her his arm and whispered conspiratorially to her, "Your daughter must be the hardest woman to impress, Isobel. Do mind your step." He nodded to a puddle and led his soon-to-be mother-in-law around it.

"So they say this ship is nearly unsinkable," Isobel said with an equal amount of detachment as her daughter. Klaus laughed.

"It is unsinkable. God himself could not sink this ship," he told her with pride as if he were the designer of the ship himself.

This was a quintessential example of the Edwardian bourgeoisie. They were a title short of being aristocrats, mostly due to the fact they were Americans, however, this was as close to royalty as the few privileged Americans could get without marrying into one of the European monarchies.

A White Star Line porter rushed to them as if he were called by name. "Sir," he called to Klaus, "you'll have to check your baggage through the main terminal, round that way-"

Klaus causally handed the man a fiver, letting the idea of the five-pound tip rush through his head. "I put my faith in you, good sir," Klaus told him. He gave a nod towards Elijah, "See my man."

"Y-Y-Yes sir," he stuttered slightly intimidated, "My pleasure, sir." Elijah pointed at the cars.

"These trunks here, and then the twelve in the Daimler. We'll have this lot up to the rooms." The White Star man wore a comical look on his face as he saw the pile of trunks and suitcases that seemed to rival the ship in height. Wooden crates and a steel safe were placed beside the luggage and he whistled frantically for some cargo-handlers to come.

"We'd better hurry," Klaus told his two female companions in a nonchalant tone as he checked his pocket watch, "This way, ladies," he said, leading them towards the first class gangway and Bonnie Bennett and her mother hustled behind them, laden with the bags of their mistresses' latest purchases of items far to delicate for common bag handlers to touch.

Klaus led his fiancé and future mother-in-law through vehicles, handcarts, steerage and second class passengers, and well-wishers. Above, several first class passengers avoided the grime and smell from the coarse wool and tweed-clad steerage pushing against each other as a health examiner check for lice through the scalp and eyelashes.

Two tons of Oxford marmalade in large wooden crates passed by the entourage as Klaus stopped short. Elena stared up at the great iron wall that was the hull of the Titanic. From here, even she had to admit, the ship was impressive. In fact, she wondered how such a thing stayed afloat. An overwhelming sense of dread flooded her body as Klaus pressed a hand into the small of her back and guided her forward onto the gangway to the D Deck doors.

This was the ship of dream. Everyone one knew it, including Elena. And yet, she somehow doubted that it would bring her one dream, to free her from the chains of society who expected far too much from her, to be free of Klaus. Any casual observer would see a girl with dark hair and a perfectly serene look upon her face. Inside, Elena was screaming.

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><p>From the pier, a man sat in a blue A.L.F.A. 15 HP. His boss was late. He knew it would happen. It was just like him too. The man, Alaric Saltzman was a German born prince who had been sent to England for the summers to spend them with his distant cousins' rich grandmother (Victoria, the Queen of England) who taught him English. Now, he was hired by the Marchese di Toscana to watch his son, Prince Damon Francesco DeSangue, Conte di Toscana, and be a translator. Officially, this would be the first time he met the Count.<p>

Unofficially, he had met Damon at the University of Florence as Damon Salvatore, where the Count had taken his grandmother's maiden name in attempts to be normal. Alaric had been studying there from Germany, and he and the Count became great friends.

Alaric snapped his pocket watch closed again, glancing up toward the first class gangway. There was a small group. Two maids, a first class man, and two first class women. It was the older of the two well dress, first class women that caught his eye. She had black hair and porcelain skin and beautiful, womanly curves.

"Ric?" a voice asked. Alaric jumped and turned to see none other than the Count himself. "Whom are you staring at?" The Count was a handsome man. He had thick, dark hair and bright, icy blue eyes. He had a light, clear complexion and a smirk. But for a man who had more money than what he knew to do with it, he was dressed rather shabbily. He had on simple, worn brown clothes that he had been known to wear while playing American football, a game Alaric had learned on a trip to America to visit a distant cousin or aunt, complete with his hat. "I'm having Noah and Henry check in the luggage," he explained, waving towards the red Rolls Royce Silver Ghost behind him that was being unloaded by the two men dressed in uniforms.

"What are you wearing?" Alaric finally asked Damon, getting over his shock.

"Like it?" he asked with a smirk, and if it weren't for the accent, Alaric would have thought Damon to be an America, "I hear it's all the rage in the proletariat world." Alaric rolled his eyes, stepping out of the A.L.F.A. 15 HP just as the Titanic's final warning whistle blew.

"Come on. Your father wanted me to watch you and make sure you get to America safely, so let's get to America safely." Damon gave him a smirk, pulling money from his jacket and tucking ten pounds in each of his helper's hands.

"Make sure this stuff gets on the ship and that pile into our rooms. Grazie," he told them before walking to the Deck D gangway.

"Excuse me," one of the ship's crewmen holding the doors opened said to Damon, "your people are on Deck E." Alaric looked at the man in his eyes.

"Do you know who this is? This is Count DeSangue. He nearly got attacked on the way here. I'm his security guard. In order to keep him safe," Alaric lied, "we had to dress him in these awful clothes." The man gulped as he met Damon's eyes, before seeing Stevie and Slater trail behind him with "fragile" items that hardly left room for them to see above or around them.

"Put those in my room, gentlemen," Damon told the men, unaware of Alaric's conversation with the crewman, as he tucked five pounds into each of the two British men his father had hired from his coat's front pockets.

"I'm so sorry, um, Count DeSangue. Please, um, uh, continue. Enjoy your trip," the crewman stuttered, clearly confused. Damon turned and gave a nod.

"Of course," he told the man, passing him and entering the ship. The mooring lines dropped into the water as Damon and Ric walked up to the deck. Seven tugboats were pulling the Titanic away from the wharf as they reached the rail. Damon waved at familiar faces in the crowd. William Tanner was glaring at him. Vicki and Kelly Donovan were waving frantically at him. Mason and Jules Wolfe were shooting glances of daggers at him. Damon just smirked, waving in a wave that suggested him to be more than just a count, rather implying he held some relation to royalty.

"You know someone?" Alaric asked.

"But of course," He turned to the crowd, "Good-bye! Good-bye! I will never miss you all!" Alaric grinned.

"I'll never forget you!" He shouted to the cheering well-wishers. The crowd on the pier ate up the goodbyes of the miniscule people at the railing as the Titanic began to gather speed as it headed toward the English Channel.

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><p>Don't forget to read and review! ;)<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own James Cameron's Titanic or the Vampire Diaries. Although, I'm really glad I'm not J. Bruce Ismay (who [partially] owned the _RMS Titanic_).

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><p>Damon sat in his first class room. Alaric was just next door. It would be so easy to sneak downstairs to the steerage. Their company was always much more interesting than that of the first class passengers. Sighing, he sat up and pulled his hat on his head again. He walked down to the third-class.<p>

Total confusion was the theme of the hallway in the steerage. People were loudly arguing over luggage in many languages, only a few Damon could even understand. Emigrants studied signs over doors armed with phrase books to learn new words.

In a blatant contrast to the steerage that Damon was walking the halls of, Elena was standing in the "Millionaire Suite". Klaus had one of the two bedrooms of the suite and she had the other. Her mother had a separate room.

A room service waiter poured champagne in a tulip glass of orange juice, handing it to Elena who took a sip and glanced through her paintings. The paintings were unknown, lost works by well known artists. There were Monets, Degas, Van Goghs and so on. Thieves, artists, and art enthusiasts alike would have looked as if they found gold from the sight.

Klaus stepped inside from the covered deck, which was complete with potted trees and vines on trellises.

"Well those were such a waste of money. Mark my works, none of them will amount to anything. At least they were cheap."

"Klaus has no taste in art," Elena whispered conspiratorially to one of the waiters who offered her a small smile and walked out. A porter wheeled Klaus' private safe into the room on a hand truck, walking it into the wardrobe, as had been Klaus and Elijah's previous instructions. Sighing, Elena walked into the bedroom, carrying up A Starry Night Over the Rhone. She set it on the dresser, near the canopy bed. Bonnie was hanging up clothes.

"It smells so new," Elena said, sitting down of the corner of the bed, "It's like it was built just for us and when I crawl in between the sheets tonight to sleep, I'll be the first."

"And when I crawl between the sheets," Klaus said from the doorway, "I'll also be the first."

Bonnie blushed at the innuendo, edging her way away from the bed. "Excuse me, Miss," she said, before she made her exit.

Klaus stepped behind Elena, laying his hands possessively on her hips. "I'll be the first and only, forever."

In that moment, Elena never felt more like an object to be bought or sold or traded.

Like one of Elena's paintings in her room, the Titanic stood out from the purple post-sunset sky, looking more like a palace in the middle of the water than a ship. By the next afternoon, the final stop had been made and they were now steaming west from Ireland, with nothing but miles of Ocean ahead.

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><p>It was late afternoon when Alaric finally found again Damon, sketchbook in hand, hat tossed casually to the side, drawing the lovely Andie glancing off the side of the railing. Andie was a beautiful, young, thin middle class woman who had been disowned by her mother and father.<p>

It wasn't well known to the world, but Damon was an artist. Alaric had joked that if Damon hadn't been a Count, he could have been the next Da Vinci.

It was growing dark when Damon stood, stepping onto the bow's railing. Alaric glanced forward across the Atlantic.

"I can see the Statue of Liberty," Damon told his friend, grinning, "Very, very small, of course, but I see it."

At this, Alaric chuckled. Damon lifted his arms up and out, balancing on the railing. "I'm the king of the world."

Of course, it felt that way. Why wouldn't it? He avoided the first class, sneaking in and out his suite and coming down to the life of the party- the steerage. They knew how to let loose, to have fun.

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><p>"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history..." J. Bruce Ismay, the Managing Director of the White Star Line, told the table from its head about the ship's crowning glory, "...and our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up."<p>

To his right, Thomas Andrews sat at the table. Surrounding the table besides Bruce and Thomas was Klaus, Elena, Isobel, and Ms. Margaret Brown. It was Friday in the first class' Palm Court during lunch. The sun was high in the sky, shinning threw high arched windows onto the group. Thomas shifted uncomfortable.

"Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is...willed into solid reality."

"Why are ships always bein' called 'she'? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?" Margaret asked the table and everyone laughed, "Just another example of the men settin' the rules their way."

As the waiter arrived to take orders from the patrons, Elena lit a cigarette. Her mother stared, eyes wide.

"You know I don't like that, Elena," Isobel scolded. Elena rolled her eyes, but Klaus pulled the cigarette from her mouth and stubbed it out.

"She knows," he said, turning to the waiter, "We'll both have the lamb, rare, with a little mint sauce." Once the waiter moved on, he turned back to Elena, "You like lamb, don't you sweetie?"

"Are you gonna cut her meat for her too, Klaus?" Margaret asked him, turning to Ismay. "So who came up with the name Titanic? You, Bruce?"

"Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury...and safety—"

"Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay," Elena said in an expressionless voice. Thomas chocked on part of his breadstick, trying to hide his laughter. Isobel was mortified and stunned. Where had her daughter learned such a thing?

"My God, Elena, what's gotten into—"

"Now, if you will excuse me," Elena said, picking up her napkin from her lap and setting it on the table, before she stalked away.

"I do apologize for her. I don't know what came over her," Isobel was able to spit out.

"She's a pistol, Klaus. You sure you can handle her?" Margaret asked delighted.

Feigning indifference and attempting to seem unbothered by the exchange, Klaus stood and replied, "I may have to start minding what she reads from now on."

"Freud?" Ismay asked confused as Klaus left, "Who is he? Is he a passenger?"

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><p>Damon sat back on the bench, soaking the bright sun into his pale features. His eyes were closed, as if asleep, but Alaric knew better. His friend, his boss, was merely listening to the world around him, absorbing the sounds and languages of the people before opening his eyes. He had a sketch book open on his lap and begun sketching the deck of the first class. It was a common theme for Damon, the whole 'outside looking in'.<p>

The conte crayon made sure strokes, rapidly forming the deck and drawing women with large feather hats long dresses and men in their stiff suits and slicked back hair. None of the people in his drawings had a smile on their face, and though they looked like the very embodiment of luxury, they seemed unhappy and discontent. Alaric nodded appreciatively at the sketch, knowing that hours ago, one of those scowling people was him.

Now, it was not only the first class who scowl, he thought as Tyler Lockwood, a young, dark hair Brit who was marching angrily in their direction as three small dogs walked around the deck by a crew member. There was an ugly black French bulldog, a small white maltase and a toy French poodle, all neatly groomed.

"Typical," he spit out with the strong Manchester accent rolling off his words, "First class mutts come down here to do their business."

Tyler had once been first class, a member of England's own bourgeoisie, living in London with his family until they moved to Manchester where his father opened a factory. The Lockwood name was revered until his father's factory had exploded. Everything, everyone inside burned, including his father, leaving Tyler, his mother, and his siblings with mountains of debt and law suits. Tyler was coming to America to try his hand at business in order to pay off the debt and bring his family back to their class.

"They just want to let us know where we rank in the scheme of things," Damon told him, glancing up a the aft railing of B deck promenade where he was sketching out a beautiful, dark hair brunette girl with olive skin and a lace gown and long white gloves. Her eyes met his intense glaze and he felt as if they were the only two on the boat. The connection was broken when she turned away and blushed and Tyler snapped him from his trance.

"Like we can forget," the native Londoner snorted, but Alaric shook his head quickly and nodded his head towards Damon, who was enthralled by Elena's beauty. Tyler grinned and shook his head.

Elena glanced back at Damon who was still staring with such unabashed courage that now not only did her cheeks color, but she was positive the rest of her body did as well. She had never had a man look at her like that. She felt positively naughty standing there, letting the handsome third classman with blue eyes nearly burn holes through her dress and underclothes with pure desire.

Damon watched in horror as a man came up behind Elena and took her arm, but relief washed over him when she jerked her arm from the man and a hushed but heated argument occurred between the two before she stormed away.

"Forget it, boyo. It would be easier for angels to fly into you than for you to get next to the likes of her." Tyler gave Damon a said smile as he jerked from his ravine of Elena and only Elena. Alaric on the other hand, had a look on his face, one that stated that the Hessian was thinking up a plan.

"I know that look, Ric," the Count said in a quiet voice, "What are you up to?"

"Nothing that needs to worry you, Damon, nothing at all."

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><p>Please read and review! 7 reviews for the next chapter! :)<p>

P.S. Does anyone want a list of characters posted? Would that be something you guys would be interested in?


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own James Cameron's Titanic or the Vampire Diaries. I do own my lovely little pencil that I jot down my ideas with.

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><p>Elena sat at the table, surrounded by people deep in conversation. Her fiancé and mother laughed at something Lady Duff-Gordon said, but she didn't hear. She was barely listening to them. The pointless chatter was making her ill.<p>

If she married Klaus, her whole life was planned ahead of her. There would be parties and cotillions, dinners and lunches with many courses and rich, gourmet foods. There would always be the same narrow-minded people with the same mindless chatter. She felt as if she were standing at the edge of a great escarpment with no one to pull her back or notice or care, because she was another face in the crowd. She had seen the second and third classes mingle amongst each other. They all had a genuine bond between one another, a kindred association. Things weren't as much about money as they were taking care of each other in those classes.

Beneath the table, Elena held the tiny fork from her crab salad. She poked the crab-fork into the delicate underside of her arm, hard enough to draw blood, just to remind herself to feel, that she was still there, that she was still human and alive and could feel pain.

She excused herself from dinner and walked along the corridor to her room. A steward walking the opposite direction greeted her and she nodded and smiled back at him, perfectly composed. She entered her room.

Elena stared at the large vanity mirror from the middle of her room. She just stood there. Her eyes lacked luster. Her face looked paler than normal. Suddenly, as if a switch was flipped, with a primal cry, she clawed at her throat, yanking a pearl necklace off and watching the beads exploded across the room. She yanked her hair out of its fancy do and yanked her awful, toe-pinching shoes off and threw them at the wall. She flung the handheld mirror at the vanity, letting it shatter. Turning, she took off out of the room.

Elena ran along the B deck promenade, hair flying out like a fan behind her, tears streaming down her face. She was so angry, so impossibly angry. She was infuriated, shaking with emotions passing through her veins much too quickly for her to identify. A strolling couple watched her race by, stunned at such an emotional display, especially in public.

Damon lay on a bench at the ship's stern. He was smoking a cigarette and thinking about his father and mother. Alaric stood at the railing, deep in thought about a long lost, childhood love. After Damon's stunt the first day aboard the board, Alaric didn't let Damon out of his sight, not really anyways.

Hearing a gate clang open, Damon turned, not bothering to call to Alaric lest alert the distraught girl. The three were the only ones on the deck, except for Quartermaster Rowe, twenty feet above on the docking bright catwalk. Whether she didn't see the two men or ignored them, Damon didn't know. The girl slammed into the base of the flagpole, clutching it to her, panting. She stared out at the black water rippling out and something seemed to snap within her.

She started climbing over the railing, hitching her long skirt up to her knees to clumsily climb. Her feet were slick in only her stockings as she turned so that her body was facing out at the blackness below like a backwards figurehead with the huge gold colored letters below her spelling out the name of Titanic. Massive propellers churned the Atlantic into a white foamy wake fading off into the horizon.

She held on to the railing, leaning out with her arms straightened. She looked hypnotized as she stared at the vortex below, Damon noted. Quietly as he could, he walked to her. The rushing of water below and the Union Jack's snap and flutter drowned out his near silent steps.

"Don't do it," he said softly. Her head whipped around to face him.

"Stay back! Don't you dare come any closer!"

"Take me hand," he said softly, giving her a comforting smile, "I'll pull you back in."

"No! Stay there! I'll let go! I mean it. Don't move." Damon gave a soft chuckle and shook his head.

"No you won't, or you would have already. Take my hand."

"Don't tell me what I will or will not do. You don't know me. Now go away. You're distracting me." She wiped her tears away with one hand, nearly losing balance.

"I'm sorry signorina, but I simply cannot do such a thing. You see, I'm involved now, so if you let go, I'll have to jump in after you. And that man over there, see him?" He asked, pointing to Alaric, "He'll have to jump in after me."

"Don't be so absurd. You'll both be killed." Damon slipped off his jacket, tossing it to the bench then bending to unlace his shoes.

"I'm a good swimmer. I nearly made the Olympics in '08, but then I broke my foot."

"The fall alone could kill you."

"It would hurt, but I'm more worried about how cold the water is." Elena's breath catch in her chest.

"How cold?"

"Freezing, maybe a little warmer. Ever been to Siberia?" he asked, unlacing his other shoe.

"No," she asked, mystified by his voice.

"Well, it's one of the coldest places you can go during the winter. You see, my papà, he has some friends there and my cousins were visiting with us. They're Americans, sort of. They decided to take me ice-fishing on Lake Onega and I fell through some of the ice, and that water's cold, just like it will be down there," he pulled off a shoe, "and it just hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over you body. All you can think about is the pain and if you breathe in, you breathe water." He pulled off is other shoe. "But I already told you, I don't have a choice, so that why I'm hoping you'll come back over the rail and I won't have to jump in after you."

"You're insane!" she shouted, looking down at the water in horror. Damon chuckled.

"Everyone tells me that, but with all due respect, signorina, I'm not the one hanging off the back of the ship there." He stepped closer, holding his hand out to the girl like he would his horse when he got spooked. "Give me your hand."

Elena stared at the man for some time, she didn't know how long. He was a mystery. He didn't sound Russian at all, and yet who would willingly go to Siberia during the winter. Most of Napoleon's army had frozen going into Russia in the winter. He was crazy! That was the only explanation. But then again, he had the good two sense to be on the boat rather than hanging from it.

"All right," she said, lifting one hand from the railing as Damon took it.

"I'm Damon Salvatore." She nodded. An Italian. Her voice quavered when she spoke.

"I'm Elena Flemming Gilbert."

"I'll have to have you write that down for me." She began to turn. Now that she had decided to live, she was terrified by the height. Overcome by vertigo, she shifted her footing so she faced the boat and Damon. As she began to climb, she lost footing as one foot caught her dress and the other stocking covered foot slipped off the edge of the deck.

She shrieked as she fell. Damon gripped her hand tighter and he was jerked towards the rail as Alaric came running. Elena grasped the edge of the deck with her free hand, but just barely. Alaric knelt, grabbing her hand and pulling her up, shifting so that he was holding her above the railing.

Quartermaster Rowe heard Elena's scream and headed to the ladder.

"Help! Please help!" Elena screamed in sheer terror.

"We've got you," Ric soothed, "We're not going to let you fall."

Bracing himself on the railing and watching as his friend did the same, they held on to Elena has tightly as they could. Elena tried to find a foothold on the smooth hull, but found nothing. She slipped on her evening dress and slipped back, screaming again.

Awkwardly clutching her arm, Damon gave Alaric a nod and they both yanked her back over, falling in such a way that when she fell, she dragged Alaric and Damon on top of her. And that was how Quartermaster Rowe found them.

"Here, what's all this?" He yanked Damon and Ric off of Elena, taking in her sobbing on the deck. Her dress was ripped; the hem was pushed above her knees, showing her torn stockings with no shoes. He glanced at the two steerage men, one with his jacket and shoes off, the other with his jacket unbuttoned. The first class lady was in clear distress and he immediately drew conclusions. He shouted to the two seamen racing to them, "Fetch the Master-at-Arms," before turning to Damon and Ric, "Stand back, both of you, don't move an inch!"

It felt like moments later when Damon and Alaric were both being detained by the burly Master-at-Arms. He had already handcuffed Alaric and was cuffing Damon.

"Just like Lisbon," Damon muttered to Alaric who gave Damon a nearly murderous look. "Just saying," the younger said defensively.

Klaus was furious as he stormed in front of Damon. It was apparent that he had rushed out there with Elijah and another man, Colonel Archibald Gracie, as none of them had a coat over their evening suits. The Colonel offered his brandy snifter to Elena, who was hunched over crying on a nearby bench, but she refused it. Klaus grabbed Damon by the lapels.

"What made you think you could put your dirty hands on my fiancé? Look at me, you filth." To Klaus' surprise, Damon did look up. Instead of a submissive, apologetic look of fear he'd been hoping for, he got a defiant glare from the scorn Count. "What did you think you were doing? What gave either of you the right to touch her?"

Elena jumped up. "Klaus, stop! It was an accident."

"An accident?" Klaus asked in disbelief.

"It was actually quite stupid really. I was leaning over and I slipped. I wanted to see the propellers and I slipped and would have gone over if Mr. Salvatore and Mr.-" she paused, realizing she didn't know the other man's name.

"Alaric Saltzman," the lighter haired man said. Elena nodded.

"They saved me and both nearly went over themselves."

"All to see the propellers? Elena, if I knew you had such an interest in machinery, we could have seen the ship while it was being built."

Gracie shook his head. "Women and machinery just do not mix. It's like I was saying earlier, Klaus."

The Master-at-Arms spoke to Damon and Alaric, and the three men and Elena turned to them. "Was that the way of it?"

Elena was pleading to them with her eyes not to say what really happened.

"Uh-huh. That was pretty much it," Alaric said. Damon nodded in agreement before glancing at Elena for a moment.

"Well! The boys are heroes then. Good for you sons, well done!" He turned to Klaus. "So it's all's well and back to our brandy, eh?"

Damon and Ric were uncuffed and Alaric moved to grab Damon's jacket and shoes, handing them to his boss. "Your father would kill me if he knew what just happened. He might employ mercenaries to capture me and watch as they slowly execute me." Damon rolled his eyes.

"Now you're just being over dramatic, Ric. You're a hero. Celebrate." Alaric muttered some very profane words in German, cursing Damon to the day he dies.

Klaus rubbed Elena's arms. "Let's get you inside. You're freezing, Elena. I don't know what you were thinking," he said, taking her away without a second thought for the two men.

Gracie spoke to him in a hush voice, "Ah...perhaps a little something for them?" nodding towards the two men.

"Oh, right. Mr. Smith," he said to Elijah, "A twenty each should do it."

Elena looked appalled and jerked away. "So that's the going rate to save the woman you love?"

"Elena is displeased. Hmmm…. what to do?" Klaus turned to size up Alaric and Damon gruff and unkempt appearances. They were steerage ruffian, he thought condescendingly, unwashed and ill mannered. They'd never do with our kind. "I know," Klaus said, looking between Alaric and Damon, "Perhaps you both could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?"

Damon looked straight at Elena. "I'll go." Alaric was looking at his boss. He gave a nod.

"Where he goes, I go," adding under his breath, "Not like I have much other choice."

"Good, it's all settled then." He turned to go, drawing Elena next to him under a protective arm that Elena seemed to carry like a cross on her shoulders. He leaned over to Gracie as they walked by. "Well, this should be amusing."

"You'll want to tie those," Elijah said to Damon, "It's interesting that the young lady slipped so suddenly and yet you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes. Mmm?" While Elijah regarded Damon with a stoic expression and cold eyes, the younger man gave him a smirk.

"My jacket and shoes were off before she came out there. I had taken them off earlier."

"And on such a cold night too, especially for an Italian." Damon snorted.

"I've been to Petrozavodsk in winter in less clothing than this. I can handle the cold just fine," the Count said with a smirk, turning and walking away, leaving Elijah stunned and taken completely off guard.

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><p>Elena undressed for bed, sighing as she saw yet another pearl on the dresser. She would have to have someone clean that up in the morning… that and the glass. Looking in the vanity mirror, she saw Klaus standing in her doorway. His eyes were soft looking at her and for the first time since they had gotten engaged, his voice was unexpectedly tender when he spoke. "I know you've been melancholy lately, and I won't pretend that I know why." He pulled a large, black velvet case from behind his back and handed it to her and she took it numbly, wonder what he could possibly be up to now. "I intended to save this until our engagement gala next week, but I thought that maybe tonight, that perhaps you need a reminder of my feelings for you."<p>

For the first time in a long time, she wondered if she had severely misjudged the man before her. She thought all he was cold and cunning and manipulative, but the man standing here seeming to love her. When she opened the box, she nearly dropped it. Inside, a necklace with a blood red diamond, nearly black from being so dark, shimmered in the dim lights.

"My God… Klaus. Is this-"

"A diamond? Yes, it is. Fifty-seven carats, to be exact." He took the necklace from her and placed it gently around her neck. He turned her back to the mirror, standing behind her. "Tsar Constantine ll of Bulgaria found this diamond in Tărnovo. They call it the Heart of Blood."

"Klaus," she breathed, "it's… it's overwhelming." He gazed at the image in the mirror, the two of them in an almost intimate position.

"It's for royalty, and we are royalty." His fingers danced to her throat following the necklace down to the stone itself. He never remembered her being so beautiful as she did right then. She seemed so out of reach, so untouchable, he almost wonder if she was meant to be his. Elena saw his weakness, seeing the pure emotion on his face.

"There's nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I'd deny you, if you would not deny me. Open your heart to me, Elena," he seemed to be begging her almost for a moment before the façade went back up, and Elena wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. Gingerly reaching up to touch the stone, she realized, though it was red like the warm, life-giving blood in her veins, it was cold… and it did not represent her heart, but rather Klaus'… a frozen, icy heart.

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><p>Hi my lovely readers and review! Thank you so much for reading this story. Your comments have all made me smile! :D Sorry I didn't get to post sooner. Life is catching up to me! I feel like I'm running in circles. (AHHHH!~ screams in frustration.~)<p>

Important notice: On this day in history, seventy years ago, Pearl Harbor was attacked and America entered World War II. So yes, today is a heavy, heavy day- appropriate, I think, for this heavy, heavy chapter.

P.S. I'm trying for 10 reviews on this story after this chapter. My friend doesn't believe I can do it. I told her that this is the chapter where Damon and Elena finally meet so she's waiting to try to prove me wrong. Please don't let her prove me wrong!

P.P.S. Also, I added a poll to my page. Be sure to vote. Your votes will determine which story gets updated first.


	6. Chapter 6

This is basically a filler chapter.

Thank you for all your nice reviews. Mel, stop purposely annoying Ana.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Time seemed to fade back into the present day and wrinkles reappeared around Elena's eyes. "Even after all these years, I can feel it closing around my throat like it was a dog collar. It's weight pulling me down. If only you could have felt it, not just seen pictures of it…"<p>

"Well, that's the general idea," Stefan said, getting impatient. Damon glared at him and he stepped back.

"So let me get this straight," Jeremy started, "You were going to kill yourself by jumping off the Titanic?" He laughed loudly. "That's great."

"Jeremy…" Stefan warned, even as Elena laughed an almost girl-like laugh along with him.

"You only had to wait two days!" Jeremy finished. Damon rolled his eyes at his wife and the kid. Out of Elena and Damon's sight, Stefan checked his watch. It had been hours.

"Tell us more about the diamond, Elena. What did Klaus do with it after that?"

"I'm afraid I feel tired, Mr. Branson," Elena said, standing. Katherine rushed over to her grandparents, starting to roll her grandmother out in her wheelchair after Elena sat. One of the seamen wheeled Damon's chair.

"Wait! Can you give us something to work with here? Who had access to the safe? What about this Elijah guy? The valet. Did he have the combination?"

"That's enough." Katherine's tone was sharp, like the blade of a knife. As she rolled her grandmother out, Elena waved goodbye.

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><p>The arm of the crane swung one of the Mir subs out over the water. Stefan walked side by side with Trevor, who was bearing news from the von Swartzchilds. They wove among launch crew, deck cranes, and the sub maintenance guys.<p>

"They're getting impatient."

"I'm getting impatient," Stefan said, frustrated, running a hand threw his hair, "I need more time, Trevor."

"We're burning through thirty grand a day, and we're six days over. I'm just telling you what they're told me. They said, 'They've put their hand on the pull and are starting to pull.'"

"Well, tell the hand that I need like, two more days. Just two more days. We are talking to Klaus von Swartzchild's fiancé, the one he purchased the necklace for. She had the diamond on and now we just need to know where it ended up. I just need to warm her up a bit. Okay?" Katherine stood behind him, eyebrow raised. "Hey, Katherine, can I talk to you for a bit?"

"Don't you mean warm me up a bit?"

"Please, I'm running out of time. I need your help."

"I'm not going to help force you into making my hundred, nearly hundred and one year old grandma talk. I'm here to tell you back off. My grandfather is beyond angry and he can sue you over the moon and back if he feels you're taking advantage of my grandma's knowledge."

"Katherine," Stefan pleaded, taking her hands in his, "you have to understand. This is my whole life. My wife divorced me over this hunt. Every drop of my money and Jeremy's is tied up in this. I need what's locked in your grandma's memory."

"Look, Stefan, my family got killed by some guy and his gang just because I wouldn't go out with him. My grandparents are the only people I have left and I won't have them for long. You have to let her do this her way, in her own time. She called you, so obviously she has some reason for being here."

"Make peace with the past?" Katherine shook her head.

"You don't understand. Up until that story ran on TV, neither her nor Grandpa had ever mentioned being on the Titanic, or being some Count and Countess. My dad had told me about the whole royalty aristocrat thing, but they never mentioned it."

"Then we're meeting them for the first time." Katherine gave him a hard, studying look.

"Do you really think they were there?"

"I don't know what to think. I believe they were though."

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><p>Stefan began the tape recorder again. Elena glanced at the screen showing live footage for the wreck. The rectangular windows of A deck marched past on the right.<p>

"The next day was Saturday, and I remember thinking how good the sunlight felt." And the tale begun again.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Elena walked into the sunlight on the enclosed promenade. She never had felt appreciative of the sunlight before. She walked with purpose, feeling as if she hadn't felt the sun on her skin in years. She unlatched thee gate to go into the third class. On the deck, the steerage men stopped and stared at her as she pasted by, but she didn't care.<p>

The third class general room was loud and noise. There were mothers and baby, children running between benches and shouting in many languages, being scolded by their mothers in several others. Old woman were yelling. Girls read dime novels and did needlepoint. On the far side of the room, there was even an upright piano. It was there were Tyler sat, playing a lively tune.

Boys shrieked and shouted, causing havoc. Alaric was conversing with an attractive blonde in German, who was sitting with her family. Damon was drawing in his sketchbook, playing with five-year-old Annabel Wu who had ran from her mother Pearl. Andie, the woman Alaric was talking to, straightened as her eye was caught by something. Alaric looked, then did a double take. Damon saw his friend's stare and turned, curious to see Elena walking towards them. The room seemed to become quiet at once. Elena walked slightly quicker, feeling self-conscious of the openly staring steerage passengers. Some stared at the princess with resentment, other with awe. Elena gave a small smile as she saw Damon and walked straight to him. He rose to me her, a smile on his face as he bowed and took her hand, kissing the back.

"Hello Damon." Tyler looked stunned, eyes wide.

"Ciao ancora, Signorina Flemming Gilbert." Alaric gave a nod.

"Miss Gilbert."

"Hello Mr. Saltzman," she said pleasantly, before turning her attention back to Damon, "Could I speak to you in private?"

"Of course. After you," he said, acting every bit the charming Count he was. He gave Alaric a grin and mouth that he'd meet him back in their room. As he followed the first-class princess, leaving a stunned silence.

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><p>Elena and Damon walked side by side, passing people reading and talking in steamer chairs. Some of the first class people in the chairs glanced curiously at the mismatched couple.<p>

"So you're from Italy?"

"Yes."

"From Florence." Damon nodded.

"That's correct."

"But where did you live?"

"I lived with my papà at times, others on my own. Sometimes I was with Alaric, other times I wasn't." Elena groaned.

"Why won't you give me a straight answer?" Damon shrugged.

"Look, Elena, we've walked about a mile around this boat deck and you keep asking about where I'm from and how I grew up and how great the weather's been, but that's not why you came to talk to me." Elena paused awkwardly.

"Mr. Salvatore, I-"

"Damon," he simply stated, doing something with his eyes what made her insides melt.

"Damon… I want to thank you for what you did last night, not just pulling me back, but also for your discretion."

"You're welcome. Why not thank Alaric though? Surely, we both would have gone over if not for him."

"I know, I know, but you're the one who talked me out of it. Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich girl. What could she possibly know about misery?"

"That is not at all what I was thinking. I know the life of the upper class is no more simple that life of the lower classes. I was wondering though what could have happened to make this girl think she had no way out of whatever was happening that she had to take this route?"

"It's not just one thing, you see, it was everything. It was my whole world and the people in it. And where my life was headed, I was powerless to stop it." As if something suddenly made sense, she snapped erect and turned to Damon, "What do you mean you know the life of the upper class is no more simple? How could you possibly know what our life is like? All of your people think our life is so easy."

"I just think the third class has a better time," Damon stated. When Elena's brows furrowed, he clarified, "There is no set schedule of the third class. In first class, you're expected to act a certain way, dress in certain clothes, talk to certain people. That's why I left Italy. I needed a break."

"A break?" Elena asked, clearly confused.

"You say 'my people', but my people, my world, it is all of this. My world is talking business with a baron and dancing with a duchess, and having my father try to have me gain favor with various monarchs' children. My world is the same as yours."

"How? How can it be the same, and yet you wear the third class' clothes?"

"I told you. I needed a break. That's why I only use mia nonna's name instead of my papà's."

"So then your name isn't Damon Salvatore?"

"No," he corrected, "it is. Damon Francesco DeSangue. Salvatore was my father's mother's name." Elena's eyes widened near comically.

"You're the Count no body has seen, one of the most eligible bachelors of all of Europe. I mean, you're a prince." She sighed, "Wow. I thought for sure if you ever turned up, you would be just like the rest of them." Damon shrugged.

"Life is a funny thing."

"Should I be call you by some title?" He looked at her seriously.

"Please don't. Damon is just fine," he told her. She nodded.

"I bet you don't have to marry some woman you don't want to though." She held up her engagement ring. "Five hundred invitations have gone out. All of Philadelphia society will be there. And while I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top my lungs, no one would even look up. Last night, I felt so trapped. I realized I would never be able to do so many things, that my whole life was planned ahead already and I just had to get away… even the Titanic wasn't big enough. And then I was over the rail and thinking that I'd teach them not to listen. They'll be sorry."

"Of course they would be sorry. You would be dead."

"Oh God, I am such an utter fool," Elena muttered into her hands, mortified.

"So you don't want to marry him. So don't."

"If only it were that simple."

"It is that simple," Damon told her softly.

"No, Damon. No, no, no, no. I'm sorry, it really is not."

"Do you love him?"

Elena looked up at him in shock. "Pardon me?"

"Do you love him?" Elena flushed. She was flustered at his boldness.

"You're being very rude. You shouldn't be asking me this. I would have thought a Count, royality no less, would have had better manors."

"I do, but the question is a simple yes or no. Do you love him or not?"

"This is not a suitable conversation."

"Why can't you just answer the question?"

"This is absurd. You don't know me and I don't know you and we are not having this conversation at all. You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous and I'm leaving now. Damon… Mr. Salva-" she cut off and paled, "Oh God, I just spoke that way to a Count- er Prince?"

He chuckled, rather amused by the dark hair beauty before him, putting his sketch book in his other hand. "I am not offended in the less. Although, you might want to get out of the sun. It's pretty hot today."

Flustered, she took his arm, unsure of what else to do. He walked her under the covered part of the deck, waving a steward over, telling him to get Elena some iced tea. The steward eyed him warily, until Damon held a fiver. The steward looked at the money greedily and went to get Elena the iced tea. Once the man had left, Damon led her to a chair to sit down. When the steward returned, he handed them each a tea, and Damon gave him the tip. Even though the steward thought that the 'steerage rat' was foolishly giving away his money for once they landed, Damon wasn't giving the bank note a second thought. Money came and went in his world too quickly to find himself caring much.

As Elena sipped the iced tea, she looked at the book Damon had in his hands. "What is that anyways?" she asked him. He handed it to her. "These are actually pretty good. Really good."

"Try telling that to the Parisians." Some of the sketches fell out and blew out to sea.

"Oh, no! Oh, I'm so sorry. Truly!" Damon shook his head and chuckled.

"Don't worry about it. I draw plenty. Besides, they're not worth a thing. It's more of something to help keep my sanity amongst the mindless chit-chat and chatter." He turned the page. "You see this lady?" She nodded, looking at the sad old woman in gaudy jewelry and frumpy, dowdy clothes. "We called her Gioielli di Signora. Every night, she came to the little, well, it was almost like a bar, but it wasn't really. But she wore every piece of jewelry she owned and moth eaten clothes, waiting for her lost love." He flipped a few pages forward. "This is Margherita and her fiancé, Paolo. She was the daughter of Conte di Sicilia and my mother's younger sister and he was the Conte di Sardegna. They got shot the day before their wedding by a commoner who had fallen in love with Margherita, even though she had been engaged to Paolo for almost two years."

Elena's hand covered her mouth. That was awful. "I knew them both, probably better than anyone," Damon added, "They were so in love that it was beautiful. You could just see it when one walked into the same room as the other. It took me years to convince Paolo that she felt the same way that he did. After that, it took another year for him to work up the courage to talk to her or write her letters. I actually wrote her the first one and sent it in his name. She played along with it and wrote back to Paolo instead. My poor friend was so confused why he got this letter from her at it was almost comical. But they really did love each other in one of the purest ways." Elena looked down at the drawing again and she could see the light in his cousin's face and the simple expression of pure happiness on her fiancé's face as they stared into each other's eyes.

"You have a gift, Damon, you do." She looked up from the drawings to the Count with blue eyes. "You see people."

"I see you." She looked right into his eyes. All playfulness and lightness of earlier's conversation was gone.

"And...?"

"You wouldn't have jumped."

* * *

><p>Isobel was having an afternoon tea with Noël Leslie, the Countess of Rothes, a thirty-four-year-old English woman. Isobel lowered her voice as she saw Margaret Brown crossing the room towards them.<p>

"Oh, no. That vulgar Brown woman is coming this way. Quickly, get up before she sits with us." Isobel hardly considered the woman worth her time. She was new money and though she wore the dress of the first class, she would never be one of them.

Margaret walked up and cheerfully greeted them as they were rising. The woman was too happy all of the time it seemed, in Isobel's opinion. After all, she was just the child of immigrants. She was no better than the steerage who sat below the deck. "Hello girls, I was hoping I'd catch you at tea."

"We're awfully sorry you missed it. The Countess and I are just off to take the air on the boat deck," Isobel told her, not at all sounding sorry.

"That sounds great. Let's go. I need to catch up on the gossip." Isobel gritted her teeth together. The three of them walked towards the Grand Staircase to go up. Bruce Ismay and Captain Smith were deep in conversation as they passed.

* * *

><p>Elena had recovered from being overheated and Damon suggested they walk some more. They pasted people lounging lazily on deck chairs in the slanting, late-afternoon sunlight. The stewards rushed to serve tea or hot cocoa to the first class guests.<p>

"You know, I always wondered what it would be like just to run away from it all. I could run to some tiny little town and never be heard from again. It would be wonderful," she sighed girlishly, reminding Damon that even though she was smart, she was still young. "I'd love to be a writer. I could write books and stories about things where girls aren't treated like porcelain and boys aren't so fascinated with being so great." Damon chuckled.

"A dream world, mio caro."

"So what about you?" she asked.

"I would just head out for the horizon. Alaric and I have known each other for over two years now. He's over ten years older than me, but he's the closet thing to a brother that I have. We've been to all sorts of places, Germany, Lisbon in Portugal, Paris. I've been places that seem more like a fairy tale. My mother's mother was French, so I would go to their house during the summers sometimes. It was a beautiful place to escape to. My cousins, Zach and Joseph, and I would go horseback riding. Someday I'll take you. None of that sidesaddle business though. You have right with a leg over each side. My mother even had a pair of knickers just for riding."

"How scandalous," Elena gasped.

"If you want, I'd have someone make you a pair so you could ride right without having to hike your skirts up to mount." Elena blushed and giggled at the idea of wearing such a garment. Oh, her mother and Klaus would loath the very idea of her wearing such a thing.

Damon looked at the beautiful, dark hair girl who's olive skin was alive with the red coloring that had rushed to her cheek. As if someone had cut the blood off to her face, Elena blanched and Damon turned.

Isobel, the Countess of Rothes, and Margaret Brown had been watching Elena blush and giggle like a school child while the pair had talked about riding in men's clothing. Elena instantly composed herself.

"Mother, may I introduce Damon Salvatore." Isobel gave Damon a cold look.

"Charmed, I'm sure," the woman said in such a icy voice that he was stunned that the warm, charming woman next to him was related to the black haired woman. He gave her a teensy bow, pressing his lips for a split second to her knuckles.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Signora Flemming Gilbert." Isobel stared at Damon as if he were an insect, one that would cause harm if it were not squashed. The other two women were curious about the man who had saved Elena's life, but Damon politely avoided their questions with such grace, turning their inquiry into compliments. A gutter rat such as this needed to be put back in his place. He needed to be reminded who was in charge.

It was then, everyone jumped as the bugler sounded the meal call right behind them. Isobel glared at him.

"Why do they insist on announcing dinner like it's a cavalry change?"

"Shall we go, Mother?" Elena asked. Her mother nodded. "See you at dinner, Damon," she said with a smile. The Countess followed. Margaret turned to Damon.

"Son, do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing?" Damon gave a grin.

"Signora Brown, I know what I'm doing just fine."

"Well, you're about to go into the snake pit. I hope you're ready. What are you planning to wear?"

"I have something lined up. Alaric does too. Don't worry much about me, Signora Brown, I'll be fine," he said as he strolled off.

"I sure hope so," she muttered.

* * *

><p>Okay so now we're up to the dinner. It might take some time for that one. It's one of my favorite scenes and I really want to do it justice.<p>

So tell me what you think.

Celeste


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing, (not even the château Damon thinks about *cries*).

There was a singular white tie suit laid out neatly on the bed when Damon walked inside his cabin after his meeting with Elena. Black court shoes were set next to the bed. He supposed that must have been Alaric's work, however, the freshly shined shoes screamed Henry's work.

He undressed quickly, showering and shaving so that he looked every bit the blue blood Italian that he was. Alaric would sometimes tease him for being vain on his appearances whenever he was with members of his class, but his friend understood why he was that way.

He had finished dressing, with the exception of his jacket, when Slater came in the room.

"Prince Alaric requested that I ask if you need any assistance, and to remind you to hurry so you are not late for dinner, sir." Damon nodded.

"Thank you. Can you do me a favor? Go spread amongst the first class passengers at dinner that Conte di Tuscana will be at dinner tonight." Slater gave a formal, stiff little bow and left. Damon slipped his jacket on, glancing in the mirror. He looked every bit like His Royal Highness Conte Damon Francesco, Principe di Borbone della Due Sicilie, Conte di Tuscana, the son of His Royal Highness Marchese Giuseppe Stefano, Principe di Borbone delle Due Sicilie, Marchese di Tuscana and Her Royal Highness Marchesa Rosabella Maria, Principessa di Borbone della Due Sicilie, Marchesa di Tuscana. After all, that's exactly who he was, he thought smirking as he walked out.

* * *

><p>As Damon walked along the deck before dinner, a habit he had gotten into at home, though normally on the balcony or terrace, he turned to the west, watching the brilliant streaks of colors. Bright pink with muttered orange lay over a purple sky that was quickly fading into a blue night. The Count looked incredible handsome and a glance in on of the ship's outside windows sent him into memories of his mother.<p>

The beautiful Princess of Bourbon-Two Sicilies always insisted that her young son be dressed in only the best and finest clothing, and white-tie dress was no exception. As a child, the young Count of Tuscany attended many dinners with many of the important and high-esteemed. He had dinner with both King Edward VII of the United Kingdom and King George the V of the United Kingdom, when King George the V was only Prince George. Frederick VIII of Denmark was a close family friend. He had spent Christmas and New Years with Victor Emmanuel III and Queen Elena, as well as Yolanda, Mafalda, and a young Umberto, who was no more that two at the time.

He sighed, turning, and walking back inside to the First Class Entrance, where a steward bowed and smartly opened the door. "Good evening, sir." Damon hardly acknowledged him.

_In his mind, he was far away, in the countryside at the edge of France. His mother, his grandmother and grandfather on both sides, his father, his aunts and uncle, they all surrounded him. His cousins sat on the floor with him, opening their new toys and books and gifts. Damon opened his._

_"Papà, what is this?" the young Count asked his father, looking confused at the ticket._

_"It's for a cruise. We'll be taking one in the spring."_

_"A cruise? Like the Tsar and his family take each year? And Paolo and his parents?" Giuseppe nodded to his son, fondly ruffling his hair._

The memory faded and he stood before the Grand Staircase. He glanced at it in bored interest, and then shrugged. He had seen better.

Woman in floor-length dresses and abundant jewelry swept over the floor on the arms of gentlemen in evening dress. Subconscious, one hand slid up behind his body to the small of his back, his posture straightened. This wasn't some steerage rat that that Klaus character had thought. This was Damon Francesco DeSangue, and he was very much a First-class, blue blood gentleman.

Men nodded a perfunctory greeting to Damon as he crossed the room with purpose, meeting his man and friend who stood, talking lively to a beautiful American woman. As Alaric introduced the woman to him, his companion looked every bit of the Hessian royalty that he was. He was a cousin to Princess Alix of Hesse and by Rhine, now known as Tsarina Alexandra, a prince in his own right. Alaric was Prince Wilhelm Alaric, Landgrave of Hesse from the Hesse-Kassle line, his mother being Princess Anna of Prussia and his father Prince Fredrick William of Hesse-Kassel. Alaric did carried blood as blue as Damon in his veins.

The America woman left the two gents, leaving them to walk and talk. They were both so attractive, but it was clear neither truly wished for her to be there. She had heard from two servants talking that the Tuscan Count would be joining them at dinner tonight, and had a nagging suspicion that the dark hair man who had joined the man she had been talking to was the Count.

"Oh Honoria, you'll never believe who I just met," the woman, Trudie Peterson gushed to her friend.

"Who?" Honoria Fells, a rich woman from a small town asked Trudie.

"The Count of Tuscany. Oh, he is such a complete gentleman. So polite, so handsome." And that is how by the time Klaus and Isobel arrived moments later, the whole First-Class buzzed with the news of the handsome Count's presence in that very room.

Klaus did not recognize Damon or Alaric, and with news of the Count buzzing in his ears, the dark hair men dressed in fine clothes with expensive cuff links and Italian leather shoes that he nodded to were the last people he was expecting. Damon's smug expression, a mix of a cocky but bored look, reminded Alaric of the days when he first had met Damon, had really met him. The man could hold a perfect mask in any society with anyone, rich or poor. He saw the first glimpse of true emotion since his friend stepped through the doors. A look of awe flashed across his face as the beautiful Elena descended the Grand Staircase, a vision in blue and black. The dress was elaborate, but modest, and in Damon's humble opinion, made her outshine the moon and the stars. In fact, she looked like she belonged within the great royal families of Europe.

Damon stepped forward to help her down the last step of the staircase. A magnesium flash came from the corner of the room as Damon reached out his hand to hers, but the couple ignored it. He bowed to her and kissed the top of her gloved knuckles. A gorgeous blush rushed across the girl's face, making it impossible to take his eyes off her. Elena was staring as well, never before seeing the Count in a suit. Somehow, the black of the jacket emphasized the paleness of his skin, enhancing the blue of his eyes.

Forget caviar, she thought, just put him on a platter as is and I'll be happy.

"Klaus," she said softly to the man talking to another man whom Damon recognized as a worker for the British Crown, not from some society dinner that the man attended, rather a society dinner where the man worked and served Damon goose stuffed with all sorts of spices and onions and other delectables. "Surely you remember Mr. Salvatore and Mr. Saltzman."

Klaus' surprise, Alaric noted, was clear across his face. The two men that he thought were just another face of the rich and famous obviously took him off guard.

"My! Salvatore! Saltzman! I didn't recognize you." He studied the two men, clearly wondering where they had found such expensive suits and shoes. "Amazing! You both could almost pass for gentlemen."

Alaric raised an eyebrow, glancing at his friend for a brief second and remembered that they weren't that ordinary. Never in Damon's life, he knew, had the young Count, the young Prince, ever been mistaken for just a gentleman and like the Count, he tended to socialize with a more, how shall he put this, royal crowd, as known as his family. So when the elder of the pair looked straight at the fiancé of the woman he had helped save just last night, it was not a lie when he said, "Almost."

* * *

><p>"My, my!" A voice exclaimed after the gathering of people had entered the First-class reception room, "You shine up like a new penny, Damon," Margaret Brown said to the raven-haired man. "And who's your friend?"<p>

"Signora Brown, this is Alaric Saltzman. Ric, this is Signora Margaret Brown." Elena approached Damon.

"Good evening, Mrs. Brown," Elena greeted. "Good evening, Mr. Saltzman. Would either of you mind terribly if I borrowed Mr. Salvatore?"

Elena leaned in closer to Damon, pointing out the notables as the couple trailed through the small clusters of people.

"There's the Countess of Rothes. And that's John Jacob Astor...the richest man on the ship. His little wifey there, Madeleine, is my age and in a delicate condition. See how she's trying to hide it? Quite the scandal." She nodded toward a couple. "And over there, that's Sir Cosmo and Lucille, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals." She winked at Damon who grinned at her.

Klaus became engaged in a conversation with Sir Cosmo Duff-Gordon and Colonel Gracie, while Isobel, the Countess, and Lucille discussed the latest fashion. Elena pivoted Damon smoothly, to show him another impeccably dressed couple.

"And that's Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert. Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with the children, of course."

Klaus accepted praises from the two males he was speaking to about Elena as if she were a show horse rather than his fiancé.

"That man there," Damon whispered conspiratorially, giving a small point at a man who was showing off his riches along with his wife, "he waited on my father and I while we were in Denmark last spring visiting Alaric's Uncle Frederick and Aunt Louise."

"Uncle Frederick, like the king of Denmark?" Damon looked at her innocently, almost seeming confused.

"Is there another?" Elena rolled her eyes and the people strolled towards the dining saloon, when Elena and Damon ran into the Asters who were entering the ornate double doors.

"J.J., Madeleine, I'd like you to meet Damon Salvatore." J.J. reached out and shook Damon's hand.

"Good to meet you, Damon. Are you of the Hartford Salvatores?"

"No," Damon said lightly, his Italian accent strong as he spoke as if this were his greatest joke all evening, "the Florence Salvatores, actually."

J.J. nodded as if he'd heard of them, then looked puzzled at Damon. "Florence, Italy?" Damon gave a smile and nodded. Madeleine Astor appraised Damon and whispered like the young girl she still was to Elena, "Isn't is a pity we're both spoken for?"

* * *

><p>Inside the dining saloon, Damon felt like crying. This was almost a vision of the French château that he had often visited. The room was lit by a constellation of chandeliers, none as elaborate as the ones in the château, which was rumored to have been home to one of the French king's mother. The elegantly dressed people glided to their tables to a classical tune flowing through the room courtesy of Wallace Hartley's small orchestra. Elena moved with him as they were one and they moved lightly across the room to their table, where Klaus and Isobel wear already sitting. Damon pulled out her chair for her just as Alaric walked up with Mrs. Brown on his arm. Leave it to Ric to find the divorced ones.<p>

Of course, Damon didn't believe in divorce, not after being raised by his strict Catholic father who retained many of the old Catholic traditions. They never ate meat on Wednesdays and Fridays or holidays. They attended mass every afternoon, spending most of Saturday at church helping the poor and the sick and the hungry, and Sunday in the morning Latin mass following with Sunday dinner with as much of his familia as was there.

His father had never remarried after his mother had passed and her mark on their lives was also prominent. The fine clothes, the living like one of the people you ruled, making alliances with other countries, provinces, and states, these were all things that she taught them. She taught them that they only had power as long as they were in favor with not only the king, but the people as well, and perhaps, they were the most important.

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Salvatore," Isobel said in a condescending tone, "I hear they're quite good on this ship. How do they compare to others?"

Damon was seated opposite Elena, who was flanked by Klaus and Thomas Andrews, Isobel sitting next to Klaus. Alaric sat to Damon's right. Also at the table were Margaret Brown, Bruce Ismay, Colonel Gracie, the Countess, Benjamin Guggenheim, Madame Aubert, and the Astors.

"I wouldn't know, signora. I have never ridden steerage on any other ship," he said, mask back in place. He lifted the napkin from the plate and set it carefully on his lap.

"And what about you, Mr. Saltzman," Isobel continued to Damon's companion, "Surely you have traveled, an American like yourself." Alaric raised an eyebrow at her words.

"Well, to begin," he said, letting his accent leak through strongly, "I am Hessian. My cousins' grandmother lived in England, which is where I learned my English. This is my first time traveling steerage as before I had traveled with my cousins." His answer, like Damon's, left everyone confused, with the exception of Elena.

"Mr. Salvatore and Mr. Saltzman are joining us from third class. They were of some assistance to my fiancée last night." Klaus turned to Damon and spoke as if to a child. "This is foie gras. It's goose liver."

"I know," Damon said, a smirk sneaking through his mask, "I am not uneducated, nor am I ignorant, especially not in cultural areas such a cuisine." This stirred up a buzz at the table. "After all, Italia has some of the most bello ed alimento delizioso in all of the world, along with Paris," he said, pronouncing the name of the French cities much as the French themselves did. "Although, I must say, my favorite place in all of French is this beautiful countryside in the north-eastern part of France in Champagne-Ardenne. There is this gorgeous vineyard, near the border of Alsace-Lorraine. It grows the best champagne." Eyes were wide as Damon told of this beautiful area of France.

"Isn't that where the Prince Carlo and Princess Marguerite of Bourbon-Two Sicilies lived?" J.J. Astor asked Damon.

"It is."

"And yet you still went there?"

"They are very kind people. Very loving and welcoming." His worlds were not lies. His grandparents were indeed very loving and welcoming to him.

Guggenheim spoke in a low, quiet voice to Madame Aubert, "What is von Swartzchild hoping to prove, bringing these...bohemians...up here?"

A waiter spoke to Damon. No one had noticed him approach. "How do you take your caviar, sir?"

Klaus answered for him. "Just a soupcon of lemon..." He spoke to Damon, smiling. "...It improves the flavor with champagne." Damon smiled back and spoke to the waiter.

"I would like it with chopped onions and capers on a lightly toasted piece of buttered rye." The waiter looked to Alaric.

"I'll have it the same, without the capers." Once the waiter finished the orders and left, Isobel turned to Damon.

"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Salvatore?" she asked, a haughty edge to her voice.

"Well, my papà has a lovely home in Italy, right near the sea. My mother's family lived in north France. A few of my cousins lived in Sicilia and I have cousins who lived over most of Europe, except for my two cousins who live l'America, but spent most of their time with my mother's parents. I moved between them to wherever I was needed at that given time. Although, one of my closest friends lived in Sardinia, and I used to stay with him often." The salad was served and Damon picked up his salad fork, neatly eating a bit.

"You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" Isobel persisted.

"Well, you see Signora, it's a big world, and I intend to see as much as possible before I die. My mother saw so much of it and every night before I fell to sleep, she would tell me the stories from her childhood and of the world that she had seen. My father always talked about going to America. His mother's younger brother immigrated to America, to Virginia. He always wanted to meet the man he had been named for, but he hasn't made it there yet. About a month ago, I told him I would go and tell him about it, and if was as great as his uncle said, than he would come there as well. My mother saw America once as a girl and always wanted to go back, but she never get the chance to go again before she died. You just can't wait around to see what hand the world will deal you. Death teaches you to live your like as it comes, to make each day count."

Mrs. Brown raised her glass, "Well said, Damon."

Colonel Gracie raised his glass. "Here, here."

Elena lifted her glass, looking at Damon. "To making it count." The table copied her words and movement.

Annoyed that Damon had begun to gain favor among the first-class, Isobel pressed further. "How is it you have the means to travel, Mr. Salvatore?"

"When my mother died, she left me everything she owned, her entire legacy. My father made me win my ticket onto the Titanic through a game of scopa. I won through a lucky hand." He glanced at Elena. "A very lucky hand."

"All life is a game of luck," Colonel Gracie nodded in agreement.

"A real man makes his own luck, Archie," Klaus said stiffly.

After dessert had been served and a waiter arrived with cigars in a humidor, Ric spoke to Damon in a low voice, "Best be time to go. I see that lady from earlier, Trudie, making her way over here with a female friend."

Gracie rose, "Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?"

"Joining us, Salvatore, Saltzman? You don't want to stay out here with the women, do you?" Damon stood.

"No, thanks. It's probably a good time to be heading back," Damon said.

"And you, Saltzman?" Klaus asked the other man.

"I was threatened, on pain of death in five countries, to watch Damon and keep him from trouble," Alaric said stoically, in such a way Klaus, Isobel, and the others were not sure if her were joking or not, "Thank you though."

"Probably best. It'll be all business and politics and that sort of thing. Wouldn't interest you. Good of you both to come." Klaus turned and he and the other gentlemen left the room.

"Damon, must you go?" Elena asked, a note of sadness in her voice.

"I'm sorry, mia cara, but it's time for me to go back to the real world." He took her hand and bent at the waist, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, slipping a note into her palm. "Until next time, fair Elena."

Alaric inclined his head. "Maybe next time we'll meet under better circumstances, young Elena," the German said, giving the young woman a smile. He followed his boss, walking away. Isobel scowled after them. Under the table, Elena opened the note.

Make it count. Meet me at the clock.

* * *

><p>Elena crossed the A deck foyer as she saw Damon in the center of attention, standing, facing the clock. As Elena approached, Damon turned, grinning.<p>

"Want to go to a real party?"

* * *

><p>The third class general room was crowded and alive with an upbeat tune. Laughter carried through the air. A mismatch band of a fiddle, accordion, and tambourine was gathering near the upright piano. People were dancing and drinking, smoking and laughing.<p>

Tyler handed Elena a pint of stout and she hoisted it. He grinned.

"So what makes a girl like you come down here for a man like Damon?" the Brit asked the dark hair girl.

"He saved my life, both him and Mr. Saltzman." Tyler chuckled.

"Of course he would. First class life is no fun."

"How would you know?" She asked him.

"Didn't he tell you?" Tyler laughed, "Of course he didn't. My last name's Lockwood."

"Like the Manchester Lockwoods? The ones who factory got destroyed?" Tyler grimaced.

"Exactly like those Lockwoods. My mum sent me off to find my uncle George in America. He can come back to live with us. He's become quite a bit wealthy in his own right. She's hoping he can help up. Frankly though, my dear, I don't think she knows how to live without money." Elena sighed and lifted her left hand, and Tyler's eyes bulged.

"My father died and left us with more debt than my mother knows what to do with. Her brilliant idea for us to keep our money is for me to married a Pittsburg steel heir who has to be the biggest narcissistic, egotistic, conceited, arrogant person I have ever had the misfortune to meet. He acts like I'm a show horse, someone just to show off to his friends and brag about while they all congratulate themselves on being the masters of the universe." Tyler laughed in earnest at that. Across the room, Damon was dancing with Anna and Pearl, Anna's mother, was doing an awkward dance with Alaric. Anna was standing on Damon's feet to dance. When the tune ended, Damon leaned down to the little girl.

"I'm going to dance with her now, all right?" He asked the little girl, pointing at Elena.

"She pretty," little Annabel said quietly, "You and she marry?" Damon laughed, almost wistfully.

"No, we're not married." He ruffled her hair, "You're still my best girl, Anna." Anna scampered off, running to her mother and clutching her leg through her skirt. Alaric laughed and picked her up. Damon walked over to Elena, who took his hand smiling.

Tyler understood then, Elena may be engaged to some jerk, but Damon had saved her, in every way a person can be saved it seemed. He watched them do an awkward dance before Elena plucked her shoes off and tossed them to him. He caught them and looked at the fanciness of the awful, high-heeled shoes. When he looked again, Elena and Damon were dancing as if they were the only two in the room. It changed from an awkward dance to a graceful waltz that made it look more like the Count and some first class girl than Damon and some first class girl. The crowd had stopped to watch them, and when the song ended, they continued dancing to some love song only they could hear the tune of. Suddenly, Damon stepped back and took a bow, Elena giving a graceful ballet plié. Laughter and an applause filled the air and Tyler grinned. First class girl knew how to party, he thought with a smirk.

The dancing began again. Bjorn Gundersen, a Swede, crashed into Tyler, splashing his beer on Elena's dress. She laughed, slightly tipsy, not at all caring. This was the most fun she had had in ages. Tyler, however, lunged, grabbing Bjorn and wheeling him around. As Bjorn turned, he went to punch Tyler in the face, and he would have, if Damon, ever the diplomat, hadn't jumped in between them, pushing them apart.

"Boys, boys! Did I ever tell you the one about the Swede and the Englishman and a donkey in a bar?" Tyler and Bjorn stood there with pint up angry running through their bodies, steam coming from their ears. Then, Tyler straightened and grinned, clapping Bjorn's shoulder.

"So," Elena said, parting the crowd, "you think you're big tough men? Let's see you do this." Elena assumed a ballet stance, arms stretched out to balance carefully as she went onto her tiptoes. The men gaped, studying her muscle control. Her face screwed up in pain, and came back down, and hopped on her good foot, grasping the other. "Ow! Ow! Ow! I haven't done that since I was ten!"

Damon caught her in his arms as she loss balance, and everyone cracked up, loving the first class girl. On the stairs to the well deck, Elijah stood, ignored by the third class people as he watched Elena and Damon. He watched the pair dance, then saw the rest of the scene unravel before him. The valet saw Elena in Damon's arms, both of them laughing. He turned and walked out the door.

* * *

><p>The stars blazed brightly overhead, painting pictures in the sky. Giddy and merry, lightly dancing back towards the first class past a row of lifeboats. They were singing, slightly off key with all the wrong words of the popular song, "Come Josephine in My Flying Machine."<p>

"Come Josephine in my flying machine. And it's up she goes! Up she goes! In the air she goes. Where? There she goes!"

As they fumbled with the words, they broke down laughing. Trailing twenty feet behind, Alaric was shaking his head at the couple, a smile across his face. When they reached the first class entrance, they didn't go straight inside, not wanting the magic of the night to end. Alaric entered in the doors, figuring it would be best to let the couple have their privacy. Out through the doors, the sound of the ship's orchestra gently drifted out into the night's air. Holding onto the rail and leaning back, Elena marveled at the cosmos.

"It beautiful, isn't it? So grand and endless," she said, "They're such small people, Damon, my crowd. They think they're giants on the earth, but they're not even dust in God's eye. They live inside this little tiny champagne bubble...and someday the bubble's going to burst."

Damon sighed. His bowtie was untied, just hanging around his neck. He walked forward and leaned on the rail beside her, his hand brushing hers.

"There's been a mistake," Damon declared.

"A mistake?"

"Yes, a mistake. You're not one of them. You got sent to the wrong family, the wrong crowd of people."

Elena laughed, not dome dainty laugh, but a full-blown laugh of mirth and glee. "I did, didn't I?" She lifted an arm suddenly, pointing at the sky. "Look! A shooting star!"

"When I was little, my mom used to tell me that every person had an angel to look out for them. She said that each star in the sky was really an angel, watching out from above. She said that whenever you see a shooting star, it was our guardian angels going back to Heaven to watch us."

"I like that," Elena said softly, "But aren't we supposed to wish on it?"

Damon glanced at her. Anything she wished for, he would provide for her, he thought, if only she would let him. Elena was so close. If he moved a couple of inches, he could kiss her, and it would be so easy to do so.

"What would you wish for?" he asked softly, watching her intently. Elena jerked back to reality, and away from him.

"Something I can't have. Good night, Damon. And thank you," Elena said softly, turning and running back to the First Class Entrance and through the doors.

"Elena!" he cried, snapping into action. But the doors banged shut, and she was gone from him. Back to where she belonged, Damon thought sadly. He turned back to the railing, face up to the stars. "Ciao Momma, it's me again, Damon. I met a girl. We talked. It was epic. But then the sun came up and reality set in and she went back to her life, now I'm going back to mine. Papà was right. My dreams could only take me so far without action. When this ship docks in New York, Alaric and I are headed right down to Zach and Joseph's old home in Virginia. I'll ride Jake and return back to Italy. I'll marry some nice girl, maybe Yolanda. Remember her? I pulled the ribbons from her hair that Christmas then wrapped them and gave them to her as a present. I miss you, Momma. Veritas is not the same without you there. Grand-mére and Nonno are heartbroken without you. More left our family when you left us than you know. You broke Papà's heart in two. And mine. Je t'aime, ma mère aimée, et tu me manque."

With those words, he turned and went inside the First Class Entrance, back to his world, his life. Unknown to him, Elijah stood watching, completely dumbfounded now, questions filling his head. Was Damon the Count that all the buzz this evening had been about, or was he just another third class man? But why then had he walked in the first class entrance? Worst of all, should he tell Klaus this?

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><p>Okay, wow! Now you can see why it took so long to write this chapter. Between finals and life in general, I'm surprised I got done as quickly as I did. So a few things:<p>

1.) Yes, Damon is a bit of a name dropper in his head. Although, back in that time period, it was all about who you knew. Why he didn't drop any names (for the most part) at dinner was because this is his last real chance to be normal. Once he gets to America, he has business to attend to, then had to turn around and go back home to work again.

2.) Queen Elena was really the Queen of Italy. She was born Princess Jelena of Montenegro.

3.) Lots and lots of family history from Damon and Alaric. In this, Damon knew the Tsar of Russia and his wife through Alaric. Alex of Hesse (who in this story is Alaric's cousin) later goes down in history as Alexandra Feodorovna, the last Empress consort of Russia. Alaric makes a (semi)-thinly veiled reference to her and her sibilings during dinner. See if you can pick it up. Damon's mother, interesting woman she is, hasn't been mentioned during the series, but is mentioned in Stefan's Diaries. I use part of what they say about her from there (Stefan says she used to sing a French lullaby and spoke with a French accent) and deducted, she's French (because it's a logical explanation of why she knows a French lullaby and speaks with a French accent). So in here, she is the daughter of a Princess of Bourbon-Parma (French branch) and a Prince of Bourbon-Two Sicilies (Italian Branch), which does mean that she married her cousin. (But if you look, that is a rather common thing of the time for royalty. Even Alexandra Feodorovna and Nicholas II were second cousins.)

4.) Yes, I know most of you readers probably don't read or speak French. I don't either. The translations were done by my friend Mariette, who does. You're not supposed to understand what he's saying at the end here. The whole point is, Damon confuses Elijah (part of Klaus' evil gentlemen's association).

5.) Jake is the name of Damon's horse from Stefan's Diaries. I borrowed it.

6.) Damon makes a remark about his mother's parents during dinner. See if you pick that up.

7.) The titles of Damon, Alaric, and their family are correct to the best of my knowledge. Hours and hours of research went into looking that up.

8.) DeSangue is just a name Damon uses. It's Italian for 'of Blood'. Again, from Stefan's Diaries. He just needed a name to blurt out for himself without shouting out his whole title. DeSangue is just a way for him to differentiate the First Class part of himself and Salvatore which he uses when he is part of Third Class.

9.) Yes, the Tsar and his family took cruises every year on their yacht.

10.) Magnesium flashes were used on camera's then.

11.) 'Blue bloods' is a term that comes from when it was fashionable to be very pale because it meant you didn't need to work because you were nobility. Their skin would be so pale that you could see the blue veins through the skin. Interesting fact: all blood is blue until it gets in contact with oxygen. (That's why they show arteries in red and the veins are shown in blue. Veins go to the heart because they lack oxygen and are going to replenish.) Another reason why the royalty is called blue bloods is because of the high amount of hemophilia in European royalty after Queen Victoria (who was called the grandmother of Europe). The disease doesn't allow your body to clot blood after an injury and is hereditary. Those royals with the disease were protected so much that they hardly went outdoors and their skin appeared to be bluish. (I knew a girl with hemophilia several years ago. She was always super careful not to get scratched or anything. She even had this medical bracelet she had to wear all the time in case of an emergency. Scary stuff, it is.)

So thank you for reading Celeste's Guide to Understanding Chapter 8 of Forever This Way. Lots of research definitely went into this chapter (like I said last chapter, this is one of my favorite scenes of the movie). I hope you guys didn't feel like it was too, too much. I didn't mean to write so much (here or in the chapter), but oh well. You guys are worth it!

I'm working on the next chapter now. We are up to Sunday! Coming up is Isobel acting indignant, Klaus getting angry, Bonnie's past, more Thomas Andrew (for all of you Thomas Andrew fans), and Damon & Elena's first couples' fight!

Thanks for reading and make sure to review!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>It was Sunday. Damon's father said he could feel Sunday's coming like a ship in the distance, that it was in their blood. He stretched, yawned, and got out of bed, standing and looking out the window. He knew what he had to do.<p>

Sunlight was splashed across the promenade, across the table that Klaus and Elena were sitting at, eating in an uncomfortable silence. Bonnie Bennett was was in her maid uniform, pouring coffee for the couple before going back inside.

"I was hoping you would come to me last night," Klaus said in a soft voice, looking at a bagel in the middle of the table. Elena wondered what angle he was playing. He almost sounded upset, but she knew better.

"I was tired," she replied tensely, looking at him.

"Yes. Your exertions below decks were no doubt exhausting." Elena stiffened as if poked.

"I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me again."

"You will never behave like that again!" He said in a cold voice, his eyes raging, "Do you understand?" Elena glared him down. The nerve of him to tell her what to do.

"I'm not some foreman in your mills that you can command! I am your fiancée-"

Klaus exploded, knocking the expensive china onto the floor. He gripped her arms, yanking her up so that she was laying in the broken glass across the table. She couldn't have fought back this way even if she wanted to.

"Yes!" he screamed at her, "You are my fiancée! And you are my wife… in practice, if not yet by law! So you will honor me, as a wife is required to honor her husband! I will not be made out a fool! I am in any way being unclear?"

Elena's eyes were wide, her lip was trembling as if she were about to cry or scream at him. Suddenly, she straightened despite his grib on her arms, looking fierce, like a lioness bidding her time before she could pounce. In the glass' reflection, she saw Bonnie, who was frozen in the doorway with a tray of orange juice, and she turned to look at the woman Klaus had ignored. His eyes followed Elena's and straightened, stalking past the maid to enter the stateroom.

Elena fell back in her chair, emotionally exhausted. "We...had a little accident. I'm sorry, Bonnie. I'm so sorry."

"Don't mind me, Miss Elena. Did you know I was married once?" Bonnie asked Elena as she worked to clean up the larger piece of glass, "My mama had set me up with some real nice man, real big shot." Elena was shocked. The young maid couldn't be that much older than her, could she?

"What happened?"

"He was rich, handsome, and seemingly sweet. Back then, my mama had come from a good family with a good name. She wanted me to have a good match, unlike her. My daddy, you see, he ran out on us. Luka was a nice man, I thought at the time, until he wasn't. He had an awful temper and tried to make me submit to his every wish. I told him, 'If you wanted a servant, you should have hired one. If you wanted your own whore, you should've walked down to the corner of downtown and hired one. But I'm not your property, Luka Martin, I am your wife and I expect to be treated as such.' Needless to say, I found whatever money he had in the house and left that night."

Elena swallowed. Bonnie had come from money, it seems, and left it. Giving up Klaus wouldn't be such a bad sacrifice, especially not if she'd be getting Damon. If she waited until later, she might be too late, and she'd end up like Bonnie, leaving in the middle of the night. She sighed.

Isobel was dressed for the day, and was helping Elena with her corset. The task did not help divert Isobel's fury one bit, and in fact, it was helping her to show Elena just how angry her mother was, every time she said something.

"You are not to see that boy again. Do you understand me, Elena? I forbid it!" Isobel put her knee at the base of her daughter's back and pulled the corset strings tighter with both hands.

"Stop it, Mother," Elena sighed, hardly able to breath as it was, "You'll give yourself a nosebleed." Isobel turned and walked to the door, locking it with a click. Then, she wheeled on Elena.

"Elena, this is not a game! Our situation is precarious. You know the money's gone!" her mother yelled, careful to keep it quiet enough for Klaus not to hear.

"Of course I know it's gone. You remind me every day!"

"Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts, hidden by a good name. And that name is the only card left we have to play. Hanging around with that… bohemian…" Isobel said with a distaste in her voice and a look as if she had swallowed something sour, "will not help our situation." Elena wanted to defend Damon, to blurt out that he was a count, that he would take care of them, but she didn't. It wasn't her secret to tell. Isobel turned Elena around and grabbed the corset strings again, waiting until Elena sucked in a breath "I don't understand you," she continued, "It is a fine match with Klaus, and it will insure our survival."

Elena stared in the mirror, looking at her mother. In her eyes, it showed her as she was, lost, scared, naïve, young, and hurt, weighed down by hopes too big for her to hold, by dreams that were not hers, someone who trusted someone whom was supposed to guide and protect them, but instead led her head on into the battle. "How can you put this on my shoulders?"

Isobel turned Elena to face her, fear etched deep into her features and eyes. "Do you want to see me working as a seamstress? Is that what you want? Do you want to see our fine things sold at auction, our memories scattered to the winds? My God, Elena, how can you be so selfish?"

Was she being selfish? Was it so selfish for her to want to be loved as her to the man she married, not as some trophy to be held on the arm in front of society? Didn't her parents love each other? She certainly thought her father loved her mother. Was it so wrong for her to want that kind of love aimed at her too?

Instead, she ignored her mental questions, turning back to the dresser and sucking in another breath. Isobel pulled the corset tighter.

At the divine service that morning, Captain Smith was leading a large group in the hymn Eternal Father Strong to Save. Elena and Isobel were in the middle of the group to sing.

On the deck, Damon was currently cursing in every language he knew, which the few late passerby's discovered, was quiet a few. When he rang out of words in one language, he moved to the next. Damon had stepped outside at an urgent telegraph from Cody Webber, his father's head doctor. His father didn't enjoy the best health, but this morning he had suffered a heart attack. Webber wasn't sure of Giuseppe's condition, he said these next few hours were critical, but he didn't think Giuseppe would die from the heart attack, or suffer any major problems, but he thought Damon should know just in case. He thought the Marquess needed to eat a better diet, but heart problems were rather common in Damon's father's family, the Doctor had said not so reassuringly. It only made him feel worse.

"What do you have against me?" Damon shouted to the sky, pausing his angry pacing and cursing. Walking over to the wall, he sat down. Feet approached him, but he refused to look up.

"What are you doing out here?" Alaric's voice came, "Shouldn't you be in church like the rest of us?"

"I should have been there," Damon said, shaking his head.

"Be where? What happened?" his friend asked, kneeling beside him.

"My father had a heart attack. They don't know if he'll be okay. A heart attack, Ric! I should have been there with him! Why wasn't I there?" He yelled, angry at himself.

"Damon," Ric said softly, placing a hand on Damon's shoulder, "Your father is a strong man. He'll be okay. It's not your fault you weren't there. You couldn't have known. He won't blame you."

"I can't lose him too, Ric, I can't lose him. He's all I have left," Damon said, sounding an awful lot like a child than an adult. That's when Alaric remembered, the Count was only twenty.

The gymnasium on Titanic was one of the ship's many prides. Machines of every sort were lined in the room. A woman in a long dress pedaled a stationary bicycle. Thomas Andrews entered the room, leading a small tour group, including Elena, Isobel, and Klaus. Elena looked miserable, and justly so, but was hiding it well. The latter two looked happy. Klaus sat on the oars of a stationary rowing machines, working the oars with a well-trained stroke.

"Reminds me of my Harvard days," he told them as he stood. Elena smiled encouragingly, not meaning it in the least.

There was a bouncy, little man dressed in white flannels, T.W. McCauley, the gym instructor, who was eager to show off his modern equipment, much like other of the crew on the ship who were excited to show it off. He pressed a switch and a machine with a saddle on it started to move. Elena looked at it curious. "The electric horse is very popular. We even have an electric camel." He turned to Isobel, smiling at the first class woman, "Perhaps you would like to try your hand at the rowing, ma'am?"

"Don't be absurd," she said to him, the look on her face looked as if he suggested running around, skirts hiked up to show the knees, "I can't think of a skill I should likely need less."

Andrews, sensing it was time to take his tour back, gestured to the group. "The next stop on our tour will be the bridge. This way, please."

Damon was walking with determination, with all the composure of a high ranking noble. Tyler and Alaric followed him. Damon climbed the steps to B-Deck and stepped over the gate separating third from second class.

"She's a goddess amongst mortal men, Damon, there's no denying. But she's in another world and you need to forget her. She's closed the door. In your face, I might add."

Damon ignored him. "Ready...go." The former industry heir sighed, putting his hands together and crouching down. Damon stepped into Tyler's hands and couldn't help but remember doing this with his cousins. Tyler boosted him up, where he scrambled over the railing onto the First Class deck. Alaric held the jacket that he 'stole' from the Conte di Toscana.

"He's not being logical, I'm tell you."

"Liebe is not logical."

"Mr. Andrews," Elena said from the front of the group, "I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned...forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard."

"About half, actually. Elena, you miss nothing, do you?," Andrew said proudly, looking at Elena like she were his own daughter, "In fact, I put in these new type davits, which can take an extra row of boats here. But it was thought...by some...that the deck would look too cluttered. So I was overruled."

Klaus looked discussed. "Waste of deck space as it is, on an unsinkable ship!"

Andrews ignored him though and turned back to Elena, telling her, "Sleep soundly, young Elena. I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She's all the lifeboat you need."

As the group were passed Boat 7, a gentleman turned from the rail and walked up behind the group, tapping Elena on the arm. She turned and followed the Count as they ducked into the gymnasium. He closed the door behind her, looking out through the ripple-glass window to the starboard rail. The gym's instructor was chatting with the woman riding the bicycle when the group had passed before. They were alone in the room, and if they weren't, he had his ways.

Elena was scared, and needed to get away. She didn't trust Damon one bit. She didn't trust him not do do something to make her falling into his arms yet again and stay there. She knew she was on a very fine ledge and if she fell, there would be no climbing back up.

"I'm involved now, Elena. I can't go back to my life, not without knowing you'll be all right," is all he said.

"I'll be fine. Really."

"I don't think so. You forget, I've lived this life since the day I was born. I've been groomed to take my father's spot should something happen to him. Why do you think I've take meals with the third class, spend my days with them? I, just like any other normal person, would go insane having to sit up here, listening to them lie to themselves. You have this fire in you Elena, and if you don't do something, if you don't break out, that fire is going to die."

"It's not your decision to save me, Damon."

"You're right," he said, and she was surprised he backed down so easily, "It's yours. If it comes down to them or you though, I will choose you whether you like it or not because I will not sit by and watch you slowly kill yourself."

Elena, clearly uncomfortable, started walking away. He was too intense. "I have to get back. T-they'll miss me. Please, Damon, just leave me alone." Then she turned and ran, and he let her go. She passed the window, and he watched as her image rippled, like a figure underwater.

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><p>Wow, I have a had a busy day today! First I had my last final in the morning, then I updated all my stories. Lol so not so busy. I hope you enjoyed this.<p>

Please review.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Like the other first class rooms, the first class lounge was elegant, decorated in Versailles style. Elena was sitting on a divan, a group of first class woman arrayed around her, as they took afternoon tea. Elena sat still, as if she sat still enough, she would be forgotten. Her mother, the Countess, and Lady Duff-Gordon were taking tea as Isobel complained about the hardships of the wedding arrangements.<p>

"Of course the invitations had to be sent back to the printers twice. And the bridesmaid's dresses! There is an obvious difference between lavender and lilac. Lavender simply does not match the wedding. Let me tell you what an odyssey this has been..."

Elena's mind was across the room. At another table, a mother and daughter were having their tea. The girl couldn't be more than four or five as she, in her white gloves, daintily picked up a cookie. The mother corrected the girl's posture and how she held her teacup. The girl's expression was serious. She remembered that age, her mother's relentless conditioning to becoming a socialite, a hostess, a house wife, and a mother.

Calmly, Elena picked up her teacup, acting as if she were taking a sip, spilling the tea all over herself. She stood quickly.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed, "How clumsy of me! Just look what I've done. Excuse me." With those words, she hurried from the room.

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><p>Damon stood near the apex of the bow railing, watching the waves hit the bow as the dusk light shone over the ocean. It wasn't quite night yet, and this was easily his favorite time of day. He closed his eyes, letting the chill in the wind clear his head, his heart. Someone approached him.<p>

"Hello Damon," Elena's voice came softly, unsurely. He turned and she was standing there. "I changed my mind." He gave her a smile. Her cheeks were flushed from the wind, her eyes sparkling and hair blowing wild around her face. She continued speaking, her words coming out hurried, "I've been doing some thinking and I realized I don't want that life that my mother wants for me, because that life doesn't include you. I don't want that. I couldn't care if you were dirt poor and were working your way, from city to city, because I'll be miserable in this life if I don't have you beside me in it because I'm in love with you!" she exclaimed, then flushed, quickly backtracking, "Alaric said you might be up here and that-"

"Shh," he cut her off, "Come here." She stepped forward to him and they walked onto the apex. He put his hand on her waist, whispering in her ear, "I love you too, Elena, amore mia. Now close your eyes." She did, and he turned her, holding her light figure up, pressing her to the railing. "Step up onto the railing. Do you trust me?"

She nodded. "I trust you." He took her hands in his, spreading them until her arms, with her thin shawl, looked like wings. When he lowered his hands back to her waist, she held her arms up.

"Open you eyes."

Elena gasped. There was nothing before her but hundreds of miles of ocean, the sun's light streaking the water brilliant oranges and pinks. They were soaring, flying. There was no ship from where Elena stood. There was the hiss of the water fifty feet below and only the wind.

"Damon! I'm flying! I'm flying, Damon!" Damon chuckled, singing softly in her ear.

"Come Josephine in my flying machine..."

Elena closed her eyes, smiling dreamily as she floated weightless far above the sea. She let herself lean back into Damon's strong chest. He pushed himself forward, enough to press their bodies close enough to be confused as one. He raised his hands from her waist, intertwining their fingers, keeping their arms outstretched. He vowed to remember this image and draw it later.

Damon pressed his face into her hair, breathing in the wonderful scent. He turned his face so that his cheek lay lightly against her ear. Elena turned her head until her lips were near his, lowering her armed and turning further, just enough to claim his lips with hers and was stunned at how soft his lips were. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and they kissed like this. Her head was turned, tilted back, and she was completely submissive under his power, and for the first time, she wasn't afraid. In fact, she felt safer than she ever had in her life. They kissed, slowly at first, then with building passion.

Together, Damon and the ship seemed to lift Elena into the air, and before she knew it, her feet weren't touching the rail. She really was flying, Damon's lips never leaving hers.

In the crow's nest high above, Frederick Fleet nudged his mate, Reginald Lee, pointing to the man lifting the woman gently into the air at the bow.

"I wish I had those bleeding binoculars," Fleet muttered.

Damon set Elena back down on her feet, embracing at the bow rail and slowly stepping away, leaving the bow of the ship and headed inside.

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><p>Elena blinked, as if coming back to the present. The Mir was showing the wreck on the screen, a sad ghost ship in the abyss. "And that was the last time Titanic ever saw daylight."<p>

Stefan Branson changed the tape in the mini-cassette recorder. Jeremy looked up, getting to his feet. "So we're up to dusk the night of the sinking with six hours to go."

Elena ran the pad of her thumb over the art-noveau comb with the jade butterfly on the handle that had been pulled from her hair, turning it in her hands slowly. Damon rubbed circles on her back, in between her shoulders. They were watching the monitor, showing the ruins of Suite B-52/56.

She took a deep breath and began to speak once more.

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><p>So I put up a websiteblog/guide. So far, I only have Forever This Way on it, but it has some of the clothes and all of the characters.

http : / celestialheavens1 . wordpress . com /

Without the spaces of course.

This might be my last update on this story before Christmas if I don't get many reviews. If it is, I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays.


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry, this is kind of a short chapter, but it's stuffed full of Delena so that makes up for it's length, right?

I hope everyone had a happy New Years!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Damon took in the beautiful, sumptuous woodwork and rich satin upholstery of Elena's suite for a moment, setting his sketchbook and drawing materials on the marble table. Elena switched on the light.<p>

"Will this light do? Don't artists need good light?" Damon laughed, impersonating an over exaggerated French accent.

"Oui, c'est vrai. I am not used to such 'orrible conditions." His eye caught sight of the paintings. "Hey… Monet! Isn't he great… his use of color? Mother had him come up to our palace once in Florence and paint the gardens."

Elena laughed. "Ok, your Royal Highness, sit down," she said as she went into the adjoining walk-in closet. Damon chuckled. "Klaus insists on lugging this awful thing everywhere," she told him as he followed her in and she turned the dial.

"Should I be expecting him anytime soon?"

"Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out." She opened the safe and removed the necklace, holding it out to Damon, who took it carefully.

"The Heart of Blood," he whispered, "He gave this to you?" His eyes searched Elena's.

"Yes, and I want you to draw me like one of your French girls in that book, wearing this." She smiled up at him. "Wearing only this."

He looked up at her as she carefully drew the butterfly comb from her hair, laying it on one of the side tables, shaking her hair free around her shoulders. Damon had been laying out his pencils like he was about ready to start surgery on Elena rather than draw her. She had come out of the room wearing a silk kimono.

"The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a china doll. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want." She handed him a dime and he laughed good-naturedly at this. Then she stepped back, and his laugher ceased as she parted the kimono. The blood red stone lay between her olive colored breasts. Her heart was pounding as she dropped the robe on the floor.

"Così bella," he breathed. He looked stunned, like he was seeing for the first time, and what he was seeing was a beautiful gem. Then, seeing she was waiting for instruction, "Over there…on the bed—I mean, uh, the couch, er, settee," Damon stammered, staring at her, unable to take his eyes off her. She was his princess. She would be his.

"Tell me when it looks right to you." She moved around until she was sprawled across the settee.

"Uh...just bend your left leg a little and lower your right slightly and...and lower your head. Eyes to me. That's it." Damon began to sketch, mentally chanting not to let himself be affected by the scene before him.

"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste. I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing." Damon wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"He does landscapes. Very nice ones, might I add."

His eyes met hers over the top edge of the sketchpad and all nervousness faded away. Elena looked at Damon and knew she would never be happy with Klaus as long as she remembered Damon and remembered what could have been. The image of his eyes she would carry the rest of her life, as he would hers.

He drew Elena with confident strokes, creating some of his best work ever. Her pose was languid and fluid, her hands were soft and beautiful, a writer's hands, and her eyes radiated her energy from within.

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><p>Even after nearly eighty-four years, Elena's eyes looked the same to Damon. Wrinkles had been added with time, but it had been time spent together, his princess, his love, his wife.<p>

"My heart was pounding the whole time. It was the most erotic moment of my life...up until then at least."

A semicircle of listeners were frozen, enraptured in Elena's story of her and her husband's days on the Titanic.

After a moment, Jeremy was the first to unfreeze. "What, uh...happened next?"

Elena smiled at the young man, "You mean, did we 'do it'?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Gibbons," Damon's voice came from beside his wife, "but I was very professional about it."

The crew was enticed, unable to pull away. Stefan met Elena's eyes. "So then what happened after that?"

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><p>Next chapter is even more Delena-y. In fact, this is where it's really going to differ from the movie, so if you want to see that, make sure you <em><strong>review<strong>_ and check out some of my other stories!


	12. Chapter 12

As promised, one very Delena-y chapter. In fact, I don't think I could have made it much more Delena-y without making it completely outrageous and as completely inaccurate as possible. Some inspiration for this was drawn from Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Damon signed the drawing. Elena was wearing her kimono again, leaning on his shoulder, watching. She gazed at the drawing.<p>

"Date it, Damon. I want to always remember this night." As he dated the picture, 14/4/1912, Elena scribbled a note on a piece of the Titanic stationary. She accepted the drawing from Damon, and went to the safe in the wardrobe. She placed the diamond in the safe, then the drawing and the note on top of it. She closed the little metal door with a clunk.

As she stepped from the little room, Damon brought his lips to hers as hard as possible. Her engagement ring was no longer on her finger. Suddenly, he knelt before her. "Marry me, Elena? Be my princess."

Elena gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as she nodded hysterically and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Damon stood, placing one soft kiss on her lips before he removed a small box from his pocket. The ring was far more beautiful than the one Klaus had bought her. It was simple, but elegant, an emerald surround by tiny diamonds.

"This ring was my mother's. She wore it until the day she died. Pápa says that the ring is good luck, that it has been in our family since the late- sixteen hundreds. Back then," he told her as he placed it on her finger, "it was used as a wedding band."

She didn't find it hard to believe that this ring had belonged to a princess. Even that it belonged to several.

Elena reached her right hand up to touch his face. "Marry me now," she whispered. The young prince smirked playfully, making Elena giggle as he lifted her into his arms and brought her out the door. "Wait, Damon!" she cried, "Let me put on some clothes."

* * *

><p>Elijah entered from the Palm Court through the revolving door and walked with purpose towards Klaus. A fire was burning brightly in the marble fireplace. The usual politicians and other rich influential people were playing cards, drinking and talking. Klaus saw Elijah and walked away from the group, joining Elijah.<p>

"None of the stewards have seen her since this afternoon with us," Elijah told his boss in a hush tone.

Klaus' voice was low but forceful when he replied to the man, "Find her, Smith."

* * *

><p>"Alaric," Damon knocked, "Open up!"<p>

The door swung open and the Hessen stood before them. "What's wrong?"

"We are getting married, now. You are going to come with us, but not breath a word to my father until we reach Zach and Joseph's home, understood?" Alaric nodded, noting the long coat Elena wore over her gown.

"Let me get my coat," he told them.

* * *

><p>Elijah Smith entered the suite through the sitting room door. The suite was silent.<p>

"Miss Elena? Hello?" he called out, walking through Klaus' room to Elena's. He knocked, but there was no answer. He jiggled the hanged and the door opened instantly. She wasn't in there.

The valet moved from the room, wondering where the first class girl could possibly be.

* * *

><p>The ceremony was quick, with only them, Father Byles, and the witnesses, Alaric and another person. Elena wanted there to be no doubt to Klaus who she belonged to. She was Damon's and he was hers. She would never marry Klaus, nor would she ever have to. Mother could deal with it, she thought, she'd get over it.<p>

Damon kissed Elena hard as they stumbled back on deck, with every ounce of passion in his body. "You're mine now, amore mia," he mumbled.

"Forever and ever," she muttered back, pulling his face back to her.

Alaric coughed awkwardly, breaking the young couple apart, "Well, I think it's time I retire to my room for the evening. Damon, when we get off this ship, I am putting in my resignation to your father. There's nothing on this earth that could make me watch to make sure you aren't going to do something your father doesn't approve of, because you'll just do it anyways. I don't want to be gray before my thirtieth birthday." Alaric bowed his head. "Good night, Miss Flemming-Gilbert."

She shook her head, grinning, "Oh no, you're mistaken, sir. I'm married," she proclaimed gleefully, kissing Damon dramatically on the cheek.

Alaric rolled his eyes at them. "Good night, Your Royal Highnesses. Don't enjoy your honeymoon too much," he said with such sarcasm that it practically dripped from his every word.

"Don't worry, Ric, we will!" Damon called after the man, kissing Elena again.

* * *

><p>In another room in the first class, blissfully unaware of Damon and Elena's newest change in their relationship, and amidst unparalleled luxury, Klaus sat a card game with other rich and influence gentlemen, sipping brandy. Colonel Gracie was praising the ship's speed, but Klaus could care less, checking his gold pocket watch and scowling.<p>

* * *

><p>The pair returned to Damon's stateroom. The Prince unlocked the door, sweeping the lovely lady from off her feet and into his arms as he carried her bridal style over the threshold. Damon helped his Princess out of her coat, laying it on the chair.<p>

"I love you," Damon whispered against her chin as he moved his lips up to kiss her face and hair, "I have since the moment I first laid my eyes on you. You looked like an angel from where I sat in third-class. Then _he_ came up behind you and you began arguing and I couldn't help but think how wrong it was to make an angel hurt like that."

Elena nuzzled her head into his shoulder as her _husband_, God knows she loves using that word for Damon, unbuttoned the back of her dress, the dress she'd always remember as her wedding dress. "I love you more."

"No, you don't," he joked, spinning her so that the short train twirled out around her, before he pulled her back to him. "Nobody has ever loved another as much as I love you," he breathed by her ear, as he finished unfastening the gown. He pulled off his coat and shirt, laying it beside hers. Carefully, he helped her pull her gown off. "Are you nervous?"

"No," Elena whispered back, climbing onto the bed and laying back, "Put your hands on me, Damon."

"Così bella," he whispered as he joined her on the bed, "I promise that I will never let you go, never let you suffer, if I can help it. I promise that I will love you until the end of forever and then infinity after that." His lips met hers, over and over again, each kiss growing in passion and desire.

A short time later, Damon's blanket lay over them. They were huddled underneath it, intertwined, still unclothed. Their faces were flushed and they were looking at each other as if seeing the other for the first time. She put a hand on his face, and he laid his cheek against her chest, his eyes meeting hers.

"Siete così bella," he whispered, "I can feel your heart beating." She hugged his head to her chest, holding onto him as if he might disappear if she let go. His love for her would never change, not even after almost eighty-four years.

* * *

><p>Wherever Damon says "così bella" or "siete così bella", he's saying "so beautiful" or "you are so beautiful".<p>

Elena's wedding dress is under clothes on my website on my author page, under Forever This Way. Her shoes are in there as well. They really are from 1912. It was a really great find from hours of Internet searches looking for "the dress". I don't make much of it in this chapter. :( Sorry about that.

Other than that, I hope you enjoyed. If you are happy that Damon and Elena are married now, review. If you wish that Jack and Rose had gotten married in the original movie, review. If you feel bad for Klaus, Cal, or Elijah, review! If you thought Lovejoy's face looked like he was about to have a heart attack in the movie when he was chasing Jack and Rose, REVIEW! Basically, just review. Because this story is not going to get updated until there is over 30 reviews on it. I won't even type a word of this story until there is at BARE MINIMUM thirty reviews.

Now you maybe asking why I am doing this. I am doing this because I am not, not in any dream life have I been a mind reader. I need to know that you guys and girls actually like this story. I do accept anonymous reviews so if you don't want to be known that you're reviewing, you can still review.

For those of you that have reviewed, I thank you for that. It is well appreciated. I enjoy reading the feedback and responses that you give me.

Sorry for that mini rant. Here's the summary for anyone that skipped to the bottom of the author's note:

Point 1: Website has wedding dress under clothes. www. celestialheavens1. wordpress. com

Point 2: Review.

Point 3: Celeste is not a mind reader.

Point 4: Anonymous reviews are accepted.

Point 5: Thank you anyone who has reviewed.

That is the end of the summary. Go press the button that says review this chapter.


	13. Chapter 13

Okay, so I originally planned this chapter to be like three chapters. As you can see, that didn't work out so now we have a super, super long chapter which means **40** reviews because this was originally 3 chapters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

So without any further ado, I present to you, The Sinking... Part 1.

* * *

><p>"You can smell ice, you know, when it's near," Fleet said to Lee as the bow swept along the blackened ocean through the night. The two lookouts were trying to keep warm in the twenty-two knot freezing wind by swinging their arms and stamping their feet.<p>

"Nonsense."

"Well, I can," Fleet insisted.

* * *

><p>Barely audible over the roar of the furnaces, the stewards asked the stockers if they had seen Elena, but they just shook their heads and got back to work.<p>

* * *

><p>Klaus stood at the open safe, glaring at the drawing of Elena, and his face was distorted in rage and fury. He reread the note: Darling, now you can keep us both locked in your safe. Elena.<p>

Elijah looked over Klaus' shoulder at the drawing. Klaus crumpled Elena's note. He took the drawing in both hands, knuckles white as he glared at it, as if to rip it in half. He tensed to tear it.

"Wait." He stopped, turning to his valet who smiled, "I have a better idea."

* * *

><p>Electric torches lit up the hold as the two stewards entered, the torches played the beams around the hold. They didn't know why they had to look down here for the first class girl. They doubted she had gotten this far away. Why would she even come down here? It was too dark and dreary and nothing like any place any first class girl would want to be.<p>

* * *

><p>Damon and Elena ran out onto the deck, escaping into the cool air. His cabin had been warm, far too warm. Still, that didn't stop him from pulling his young wife to him, kissing her with such genuine passion that it made her head spin.<p>

In the crow's nest, Fleet nudged Lee again, pointing down.

"Look at that, would you."

"They're a bloody sight warmer than we are."

"Well, if that's what it takes for us two to get warm, I'd rather not, if it's all the same." They both laughed, but it was Fleet whose expression fell first. He glanced forward again and did a double take, the color draining from his face. A massive iceberg was right in front of their path, five hundred yards out. He reached past Lee and rang the lookout bell three times, then grabbed the telephone calling the bridge, waiting precious seconds for them to pick up, never taking his eyes off the black mass ahead.

Sixth Officer Moody walked unhurried to the telephone inside the enclosed wheelhouse, picking it up.

"Is someone there?" Fleet yelled frantic.

"Yes. What do you see?"

"Iceberg right ahead!"

"Thank you," Moody hung up, and called to Murdoch, "Iceberg right ahead!"

Murdoch saw it and rushed to the engine room telegraph. While pulling the signal to Full Speed Astern, he yelled to Quartermaster Hitchens, who was at the wheel.

"Hard a' starboard!" Moody was standing behind Hitchens. "Hard a' starboard. The helm is hard over, sir."

Chief Engineer Bell yelled out to the engineers, "Full astern! Full astern!"

The engineers and greasers scrambled to close steam valves and start braking the propeller shafts to a stop.

In boiler room six, Leading Stoker Frederick Barrett was standing with Second Engineer James Hesketh when the red warning light and stop indicator came on. "Shut all dampers! Shut 'em!" he yelled.

From the bridge, Murdoch watched in horror as the berg growing right ahead of them. The bow finally started to come left, since the ship turned the reverse of the helm setting. Murdoch's jaw was clenched as the bow turned with agonizing slowness. He held his breath as the horrible physics played out.

In the crow's nest, the lookouts braced themselves.

The bow of the ship thundered ahead, and then with a crunch, the ship hit the berg on its starboard bow. Under water, the ice smashed in the steel hull plates, scraping and bumping along the side of the ship, and rivets popped as the steel plate of the hull flexed under the load.

* * *

><p>In number two hold, the two stewards staggered as the hull buckled in four feet with a sound like thunder. Like the berg was a sledgehammer beating along outside the ship, the hull plates split and the sea poured in, sweeping them off their feet. The icy water swirled around the Renault as the men scrambled for the stairs.<p>

* * *

><p>On B Deck, Alaric woke with a jump. In an instant, he knew something was very wrong. Slater and Stevie were in the room, buzzing around, neatening things up.<p>

"Get my jacket ready. Prepare Damon and my passports, papers, and money and put it in my wool coat. Don't forget Damon and Elena's certificate of marriage," he ordered the servants.

"Yes sir, right away sir," The servants answered, scrambling to prepare the things.

* * *

><p>Their kiss broke as a chunk of ice sailed past them, the giant burg blocking the sky like a mountain. Fragments broke off it and crashed down onto the deck and they couple had to duck and jump backwards to avoid the flying chunks of ice.<p>

One the bridge, Murdoch rang the watertight door alarm, quickly throwing the switch that closed them. "Hard a' port!"

* * *

><p>Barrett yelled to the stokers where went scrambling through the door as it came down like a slow guillotine on them men, "Go lads! Go! Go!" Then, he dived through the closing door into boiler room five as the door rumbled down with a clang.<p>

* * *

><p>Damon and Elena rushed to the starboard rail in time to see the iceberg moving aft down the side of the ship. They shared a worried glance.<p>

* * *

><p>The alarm bells still rang mindlessly, seeming to show Murdoch's inner state of shock, and it was apparent he was still trying to get a grip on what just happened. On the maiden voyage of the biggest ship in history, he had ran the ship into an iceberg.<p>

When Murdoch spoke, it was stiffly to Moody, "Note the time. Enter it in the log."

Captain Smith rushed out of his cabin and onto the bridge, tucking in his shirt.

"What was that, Mr. Murdoch?"

"An iceberg, sir. I put her hard a' starboard and run the engines full astern, but it was too close. I tried to port around it, but she hit...and I-"

"Close the emergency doors," the Captain ordered.

"The doors are closed," Murdoch told him. They rushed out onto the starboard wing, and Murdoch pointed. Into the darkness aft, Smith looked and then wheeled around to Fourth Officer Boxhall.

"Find the carpenter and get him to sound the ship," the Captain ordered and Boxhall ran to find the carpenter.

* * *

><p>In his stateroom, Tyler tossed and turned in his dream before he fell from his bottom bunk into icy water. "Bloody 'ell!" he yelled. He stood and the floor was covered in freezing water with more coming in. He pulled on some dry clothes and boots quickly and his thickest jacket. Tyler started pounding on doors. "Up! Up! Everyone up! It's flooding! Everyone up!" He yelled before running to the stairs. The alarm spread quickly in a multitude of languages and Tyler ran to find Damon and Alaric in first class. Even though they had offered to let him stay with them, he had refused. Now he was wishing he hadn't.<p>

A few of people had come out into the corridor in their robes and slippers. A steward hurried along, reassuring each of them.

"Why have the engines stopped? I felt a shudder," a woman asked the steward, eyes wide and worried.

"I shouldn't worry, ma'am. We've likely thrown a propeller blade. That's the shudder you felt. May I bring you anything?"

"Excuse me," a man dressed in semi-worn clothing. Tyler rushed past the steward and banged on Alaric's door. "Ric, it's me! Open up!"

Alaric opened the door and welcomed Tyler in quickly. Thomas Andrews brushed past the frighten woman and the steward, walking fast and carrying an armload of rolled up ship's plans.

* * *

><p>Damon and Elena were leaning over the starboard rail, looking at the hull of the ship.<p>

"We better go wake, Ric," Damon said to Elena.

"Could it have damaged the ship?"

"It didn't seem like much of a bump. Even so, we should probably be careful." Behind them, a couple of steerage guys were kicking the ice around the deck, laughing.

* * *

><p>Below deck, the steerage crowd clogged the corridor, heading aft away from the flooding. Many had suitcases and duffle bags, some which were soaked.<p>

Bruce Ismay, dressed in his pajamas under a topcoat, hurried down the corridor towards the bridge. An steward came along from the other direction, getting the few concerned passengers back into their rooms.

"There's no cause for alarm. Please, go back to your rooms." Klaus and Elijah stopped in their tracks. "Please, sir. There's no emergency-"

"Yes, there is. I've been robbed," Klaus said cutting him off, "Now get the Master-at-Arms. Now, you moron." The steward ran to get him.

* * *

><p>Letting out a few choice words in his native Italian, "It's worse than I thought," Damon said, watching the officers scramble around.<p>

"We have to tell Mother and Klaus." Damon looked at her strangely. "She's still my mother and he used to be a decent man. He wasn't always the way he is." Damon shook his head, not understanding how his wife had such a huge heart.

"Elena, you tell them, I'll tell Ric and Tyler."

"Come with me, Damon, please, I jump, you jump...right?" she asked uncertainly to the prince. He sighed.

"Right. But let me be clear, if they don't come, I'm getting you off this ship whether they're coming or not or if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you off myself. If they don't come the first try, I'm choose you."

She nodded and walked towards the door. Damon followed Elena through the door inside the ship. Things were relatively calm inside the first class foyer as Elena and Damon crossed it, entering the corridor. Elijah was waiting for them in the hall as they hastily approached the room.

"We've been looking for you, Miss." He followed the pair into the room, smoothly slipping the diamond necklace into the pocket of Damon's overcoat. Klaus and Isobel were waiting in the sitting room, along with the Master-at-Arms and two stewards. Isobel closed her robe at her throat when she saw Jack. Elena spoke.

"Something serious has happened."

Klaus smirked at her and stood, "That's right. Two things dear to me disappeared this evening. Now that one is back…" he looked to Damon, "…I have a pretty good idea where to find the other. Search him."

The Master-at-Arms stepped up to Damon, "Coat off, mate." Elijah pulled at Damon's coat and Damon looked appalled, shrugging out of it. The Master-at-Arms patted him down.

Elena turned to Klaus, "Klaus, you can't be serious! We're in the middle of an emergency, and you-" Steward Barnes pulled the Heart of Blood out of the pocket of Damon's coat.

"Is this it?" Elena looked stunned. Damon looked so as well, muttering something in Italian that she couldn't quite make out under his breath.

"That's it," Klaus said, taking the necklace from the steward. The Master-at-Arms looked at the diamond, and nodded.

"Right then. Now don't make a fuss." He started handcuffing Damon.

"How dare you put your hands on me!" Damon snapped at the man, livid. "Don't believe it, Elena, don't." She shook her head.

"He couldn't have."

"Of course he could," Klaus said calmly, "Easy enough for a professional. He memorized the combination when you opened the safe."

Elena remembered standing at the safe. Damon had stood behind her, looking around the closet, but never at the safe until she mentioned it. He couldn't have done it. He had followed her into her room even, helping her pull down the box that contained her wedding gown, not the one that she was supposed to marry Klaus in, but the one that she had married Damon in. She wondered what that would say if she told them all that right now, that she'd never marry Klaus… because she was Damon's wife.

"But I was with him the whole time," Elena insisted.

When Klaus spoke, his voice was low and cold. "Maybe he did it while you were putting your clothes back on."

"They put it in my pocket!" Damon yelled, angry for being accused of such a thing.

Elijah held up Damon's coat. "It's not even your pocket, son." He read the tag, "Property of D.F.G.M.G.S."

"Yes," Damon said, "Property of Damon Francesco Giuseppe Maria Giovanni Salvatore."

"Maria?" Elijah asked with a laugh. The men in the room all chuckled.

"My mother was half French and grew up in France, thus using French way of naming to give me my name. Francesco is my cousin, grandfather, and great uncle, all depending on which Francesco you pick. Giuseppe is my father. Maria is my aunt's name, my godmother. Giovanni is my father's younger brother, my godfather."

They stared at him, unable to make sense of what his godparents and parents and random family had to had to do with anything. They were still stunned that he'd own up to having the name Maria in his name.

"So how did the diamond get in your pocket?" Elijah asked.

"How am I supposed to know? I didn't do this!" Elijah and the Master-at-Arms dragged him out into the hall. Elena's eyes were wet, but not for the reason anyone would think. Her mother mistook her tears and wrapped an arm around her.

"Why do women believe men?" From inside the sitting room, they could hear voices and knocking in the corridor. "I had better go dress." Isobel said, getting up and leaving the room.

Klaus went over to Elena, staring at her coldly for a moment, before slapping her clear across the face. "It is a little slut, isn't it?" He grabbed her shoulders roughly. Elena cried out. "Look at me, you little—"

There was a loud knock on the door before the door opened and their steward put his head in, "Sir, I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelt, and come up to the boat deck."

"Get out. We're busy," Klaus ordered. The steward walked in and got the lifebelts down from the dresser.

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience, Mr. von Swartzchild, but it's Captain's orders. Please dress warmly. It's quite cold tonight." He handed Elena a lifebelt and she gave him a grateful expression, "Not to worry, Miss. I'm sure it's just a precaution."

"This is ridiculous," Klaus said, angry about the interruption, believe their was no reason for it. But still, he stepped into the closet and unlocked the safe, sliding on his overcoat and putting the Heart of Blood in his pocket. He pulled two stacks of bills, still wrapped in bank wrappers, from the safe and tucking them in his pocket.

Elena, heart pounding and body trembling, rushed into her room. She undressed quickly with Bonnie's help, changing into a more practical dress, which she put her coat over. She took down a small bag, placing her wedding dress and shoes, along with her engagement ring from Klaus in there. She'd be able to sell the ring for money, if she lived. It was worse than her and Damon could have ever thought if they were having people put on their lifebelts. She wasn't going to lose her wedding dress.

On top of it, she packed her dress that she had danced with Damon in only the night before, and the dress she had nearly committed suicide in. The shoes underneath that. They were sentimental to her, those dresses, and she'd rather sink with the ship before she lost them.

Now, all she had to do was find where they took her husband.

* * *

><p>A large number of first class passengers had gathered near the staircase. They were impatient and getting indignant about the confusion. Margaret Brown snagged a passing young steward and asked the question everyone was wondering, "What's doing, sonny? You've got us all trussed up and now we're cooling our heels."<p>

The young steward passed away, stumbling on the stairs, "Sorry, mum. Let me go and find out."

The jumpy piano rhythm of Alexander's Ragtime Band came out of the first class lounge a few yards away. The bandleader Wallace Hartley had assembled some of his men on the captain's orders to help allay panic.

Klaus' entourage came up to the A-foyer. Klaus carried the lifebelts as if it were an afterthought. Elena looked angry under a calm, almost bored façade. With her, she had the small bag that held a few clothes and shoes, one of them being her wedding outfit, a brush, and some jewelry. She didn't want to have to wear the same clothes after the boat sank and she wasn't going to leave the most sentimental things of her and Damon's short relationship on the dying liner.

"It's just those English doing everything by the book," he said, not believing there was a real emergency.

Isobel turned to Emily, "Go back and turn the heater on in my room, so it won't be too cold when we get back."

Thomas Andrews entered, looking around the magnificent room with a heartbroken expression fixed over his features. Elena saw his look and walked over to him, Klaus following.

She spoke to him in a quiet voice, "I saw the iceberg, Mr. Andrews. And I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth." Her eyes were searching his, begging him not to begin lying to her now.

"The ship will sink," Thomas said devastated, looking miserable.

"You're certain?" she asked him.

"Yes. In an hour or so...all this...will be at the bottom of the Atlantic."

"My God," Klaus whispered, the thought only just occurring to him that maybe this was real.

"Please tell only who you must. I don't want to be responsible for a panic. And get to a boat quickly. Don't wait. You remember what I told you about the boats?" Thomas told Elena with urgency.

"Yes, I understand. Thank you." Elena nodded. Thomas moved off to urge others to put on their lifebelts and get to the boats and Klaus still looked stunned. She followed him, and Klaus watched as she asked Andrews something. Looking around quickly, she ran off before Klaus could react.

* * *

><p>Elijah and the Master-at-Arms were handcuffing Damon to a four-inch water pipe as a crewman rushed in anxiously and almost blurted to the Master-at-Arms, "You're wanted by the purser, sir. Urgently."<p>

"Go on. I'll keep an eye on him," Elijah said, pulling out a pearl handled Colt .45 automatic from under his coat. The Master-at-Arms nodded and tossed the handcuff key to Elijah, then exited with the crewman. Elijah flipped the key in the air and caught it, taunting Damon.

* * *

><p>Lightoller had his boats swung out, standing in the middle of the crowd of uncertain passengers, all in various states of dress or undress. One first class woman was in a mink coat and barefoot. A first class man had only his pajamas and an overcoat. The maitre d' of the restaurant was in top hat and overcoat. Some were in evening dress still, while others had bathrobes and kimonos. Woman had their lifebelts over velvet gowns, topping it with their sable stoles. Another lady seemed to be wearing every piece of jewelry she owned, a man carried several books, and some even carried small dogs.<p>

Lightoller shouted to the men, "Right! Start the loading. Women and children!" Alaric and Tyler offered to go on one of the boats to row, as Alaric told them they had both fought in the Boxer Rebellion as he slipped a wad of twenties into one officer's pocket, and though this was not true for Tyler, the officers shoved them onto different boats, telling the other men who tried to follow that the two men were officers.

Wallace Hartley raised his violin to play and he turn to his band and said, "Number twenty-six. Ready and-"

The band had reassembled, just outside the first class entrance, port side, near where Lightoller was calling out for the boats to be loaded. As they struck up a waltz, the ship seemed very safe.

"Ladies, this way," Lightoller said, indicating the boat, but no one moved. "Ladies, please. Step into the boat." Some ladies moved forward finally.

Klaus walked out of the doors near the band, Isobel beside him, looking stricken. Elena had ran off and he didn't know where.

"My brooch. I left my brooch. I must have it!" Isobel turned to go back to her room, but Klaus took her by the arm and refused to let go.

"Get in the boat, Isobel." Isobel saw his expression and knew that this wasn't a just drill.

* * *

><p>The rows of portholes were angling down into the water and under the surface, they glowed green from the outside of the ship. One porthole was half submerged. Inside it, Damon stood, glaring at Elijah and looking nervously at the water rising up the glass.<p>

"You know…" he said too cheerfully, "…I do believe this ship may sink." He walked over to Damon, a smile on his face, "I've been asked to give you this small token of our appreciation..." He stuck his gun to Damon's head before he punched him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him, "Compliments of Mr. Niklaus von Swartzchild ll."

Elijah flipped the key in the air again, catching it, and tucking it in the pocket.

"And your name is what again?" Elijah froze, turning on his way to the door.

"Elijah Smith, of the London Smiths." Damon smirked suddenly.

"Nice to meet you, Signor Elijah Smith, of the London Smiths," he said sarcastically, "It's been a real pleasure."

* * *

><p>At the stairwell rail on the bridge wing, Fourth Officer Boxhall and Quartermaster Rowe lit the first distress rocket. It shot into the sky and exploded with a loud thunderclap over the ship, sending out white starbursts, which lit up the entire deck as they fell. It looked as if the ship were throwing a large party.<p>

Nearby, Margaret Brown was coaxing a reluctant woman to board the boat. Isobel turned to a woman beside her.

"Will the lifeboats be seated according to class? I hope they're not too crowded-"

"Oh, Isobel, shut up!" She froze, her mouth halfway open, as Klaus grabbed her shoulders and shook her, "Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats...not enough by half. Over half of the people on this ship are going to die. And quite possibly, your daughter will be with them."

It hit her like a thunderbolt just as a rocket burst overhead.

"Come on, Isobel, get in the boat. These are the first class seats right up here. That's it." Margaret practically set her in the boat. Another rocket burst overhead, and it was if a switch was snapped in Klaus, he turned to find his 'fiancée'.

"Lower away!" Klaus could hear Lightoller shouted.

Klaus ran through the first class entrance, running to the elevator.

* * *

><p>Damon pulled on the pipe with all his strength. It wasn't budging. He had been at this for over ten minutes. As water began to pour under the door, it burst open, and Elena stood there with a fire ax. She moved quickly as she could with the water covering to floor to him, kissing him.<p>

"Thank God," he muttered, "What are you doing here?" She snorted.

"That's a stupid question. I'm here to rescue you."

"Do you know how to use that thing?" She nodded.

"Our gardener used it once when I was little to chop up a log that had fallen during a big storm. He showed me."

"Okay, just hit as hard as you can. I trust you," Damon said, closing his eyes and spreading his wrists as wide apart as they could go. Elena closed her eyes and swung.

When she opened her eyes and looked… Damon was grinning with two separated cuffs. Elena dropped the ax, her strength going out of her. He kissed her hard on the mouth.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her forward out of the room.

* * *

><p>Scotland Road, on E Deck, was the widest passageway in the ship, used by both the crew and steerage alike. Steerage passengers moved like refugees, heading aft. It was there where Klaus was looking for his fiancée. He figured she had to be down here, looking for the gutter rat and his friends. "Elena!" Klaus yelled, "Elena!"<p>

A steward who had been herding people through steerage ran over to Klaus.

"Sir, sir! You need to get up to the deck." Klaus grabbed the man and slammed him against the wall.

"Look here, I'm trying to find my fiancée," he yelled at the man just as a wooden doorframe splintered and the door burst open under the force of Damon's shoulder. They stumbled through into the corridor. The steward broke free of Klaus's grip, running to Elena and Damon. Klaus huffed, not seeing them, and ran back up the stairs.

"Here you! You'll have to pay for that, you know. That's White Star Line property-"

Damon and Elena turned together and shouted at him, "Shut up!"

Damon took Elena's hand again, leading her past the dumbfounded steward.

* * *

><p>From the lifeboats, the letters 'Titanic' were painted two feet high on the bow of the doomed steamer. Originally, they had been fifty feet above the waterline, but now they were slipping quickly below the surface. In lifeboat six, Isobel stared at the Titanic, transfixed by the sight of the dying liner. She was scared beyond belief. Her daughter was in there; her only daughter.<p>

Another of Boxhall's rockets exploded in the sky overhead, revealing a half a dozen boats in the water, spreading out from the sinking ship.

"Now there's something you don't see every day," Margaret said softly, shaking her head at the spectacle. Isobel's eyes were wide and frightened and child-like in the rockets' light.

* * *

><p>Klaus saw Elijah hurrying toward him though the aisle connecting the port and starboard sides of the boat deck, as did Damon, and Damon and Elena ducked back. "I looked below deck. She wasn't there."<p>

"She's not on the starboard side either," Elijah reported.

"We're running out of time. And this strutting martinet…" he said, waving at Lightoller, "…isn't letting any men in at all."

"The one on the other side is letting men in."

"Then that's our play. But we're still going to need some insurance," Klaus started forward, "Come on."

He charged off, followed by Elijah. Boxhall fired up another rocket into the air.

* * *

><p>Isobel rowed with Margaret Brown, two other women, and the incompetent sailors. She rested on her oars, exhausted, stunned to be doing such a task, and looked back at the ship. She wished she had a camera.<p>

The liner was slanted down into the water, still ablaze with light. Nothing was above water before the bridge except for the foremast. Another rocket went off, and there were now a dozen boats moving outward from the ship.

* * *

><p>As Klaus and Elijah crossed the foyer after retrieving any remaining items of any importance from the safe, where they encountered Benjamin Guggenheim and his valet, both dressed in white tie, tailcoats, and top hats.<p>

"Ben, what's the occasion?"

"We have dressed in our best and are prepared to go down like gentlemen."

"That's admirable, Ben," Klaus aid, walking on, "I'll be sure and tell your wife…when I get to New York."

Klaus and Elijah were walking aft with purposeful strides. They passed Chief Baker Joughin, who was working up a sweat tossing deck chairs over the rail. After the pair had gone by, Joughin took a break, pulling a flask of scotch from his pocket and downing it, tossing the empty bottle over the side then stood there, a little unsteady.

Klaus and Elijah heard gunshots fire into the crowd. "It's starting to fall apart. We don't have much time." He ran to Murdoch who was walking away, "Mr. Murdoch, I'm a businessman, as you know, and I have a business proposition for you."

* * *

><p>Incredibly, in all the commotion, the band was still playing. Elena and Damon ran by them.<p>

"Music to drown by. Now I know I'm back in first class," Damon said with a snort, "Like I didn't already know." Another rocket went off, lighting the skies. Then a hand grabbed Elena's shoulder and she screamed.

* * *

><p>Klaus slipped his hand out of the pocket of his overcoat and into the waist pocket of Murdoch's greatcoat, leaving the stacks of bills there. "So, we have an understanding then?"<p>

Murdoch nodded curtly. "As you've said."

Klaus stepped back satisfied, finding himself waiting next to J. Bruce Ismay. Bruce did not meet his eyes, nor anyone's. Elijah came up to Klaus at that moment. "I've found her. She was just over on the port side. With him." Elena was angry and Damon's hand was intertwined with Elena's and they appeared to be arguing.

"Women and children? Anymore women and children?" Murdoch called. Damon pulled Elena forward, out of Elijah's grip.

"I'm not going without you," Elena said.

"Get into the boat," he said when she began to protest, "No, get in the boat, Elena." With a huff, she stared at him, ignoring her soaked clothes and her shivering.

"Yes. Get in the boat, Elena." Elena jumped at the sound of Klaus' voice. She was shocked to see him, and stepped instinctively towards Damon. Klaus scanned her, seeing her shivering in her wet dress and shoes, a very inappropriate display. "My God, look at you," Klaus said, removing his overcoat and placing it on her and she numbly shrugged into it, "Here, put this on."

"Quickly, ladies. Step into the boat. Hurry, please!" Murdoch said, before he glanced at Klaus, "Anyone else, then?"

Klaus looked longingly at his boat. Damon took a seat in the nearly empty boat beside Elena, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her arms through the coat. Klaus' stuck his hands in his pockets and eyes went wide.

"Go get the diamond from the safe," he commanded Elijah, forgetting he had put the diamond in the overcoat that was currently on Elena. The valet nodded and went off back to the room. Klaus decided and sat down. Bruce Ismay stepped quickly into Collapsible C, starting straight ahead, not meeting anyone's eyes.

Murdoch stared at Ismay, and continued staring when he said, "Take them down."

The boat began to descend. When it touched the water and was released they rowed away from the doomed steamer. As the remaining rockets got shot up, the lifeboats got as far as way as possible. Elena buried her face in Damon's shoulder as she heard the screams of people jumping from the stern.

* * *

><p>Elijah couldn't figure out how to get into the suite without being drowned, and so, he figured he could forgot about it, running back up to the boat deck instead, grabbing a screaming little girl and lying to one of the officers that he was her only relation in the world. In Klaus' parlor suite, water swirled in from the private promenade deck. Elena's paintings were submerged, some floating in the water. The Picasso transformed under the water's surface into new pieces as Degas' colors ran. Monet's water lilies came to life beneath the surface.<p>

* * *

><p>Two figures lay side by side, fully clothed, on a bed in a first class cabin. The elderly Ida and Isador Strauss, co-owners of Macy's department store, stared at the ceiling, holding hands as if they were Romeo and Juliet, waiting for death to take them into their next great journey together. Water broke down the door and poured into the room. It swirled around the bed, two feet deep and rising fast.<p>

* * *

><p>In a steerage cabin, a young Irish mother was tucking her two young children into bed. She pulled up the covers, making sure they were all tucked in nice and warm and cozy. She lay down with them on the bed, speaking soothingly and holding them as the water came in and overtook them.<p>

* * *

><p>A wave sank the bridge house into the water, shattering the window and killing Captain Smith who had been standing, holding onto the wheel. He disappeared in a vortex of foam.<p>

* * *

><p>On the port side, the water picked up Collapsible B. The men worked frantically to detach it from the ship so it wouldn't be drag under. Colonel Gracie handed Lightoller a pocketknife and he sawed furiously at the ropes as the water swirled around his legs. The boat, still upside down, was swept off the ship. Men started diving into the icy water, swimming to stay with it and flip it.<p>

* * *

><p>Hundreds of passengers plunged into the freezing water. People screamed as the arctic sea hit their skin like a thousand knives. As men tried to climb into Collapsible C, Klaus grabbed an oar and pushed them back into the water, looking like a tuxedoed devil.<p>

"Get back! You'll swamp us!" he yelled. Elena snapped out of her silence and shock and jumped at Klaus, taking the oar from him, hitting him on the head with it.

"Everyone in the boat to this side," she commanded, pointing to the port side about the collapsible. People ignored her. "Move! Make room!" she yelled at them. Most didn't listen. Damon stood. When he spoke, his voice was low and deadly, regal and commanding.

"I suggest you listen to her and move." Passengers moved instantly to accommodate some of the freezing swimmers.

* * *

><p>Wallace Hartley watched the water rolling rapidly up the deck toward the back. He held the last note of the hymn in a sustain, and then lowered his violin. "Gentlemen, it has been a privilege playing with you tonight."<p>

_To be continued..__._

* * *

><p><strong>LONG AUTHOR NOTE! YOU ARE WARNED!<strong>

Whew! Very stressful writing this. Was it as stressful for you to read as it was for me to write? It was so long! Well, this should tide you over for a while.

Damon's name. Yes, his middle name is Maria. Do you have a problem with that? If so, here's some people for you o look up. Prince Alfonso, Count of Caserta - Prince Louis, Count of Aquila - Francis II of the Two Sicilies - Prince Louis, Count of Trani - Prince Gaetan, Count of Girgenti - Prince Ferdinand Pius, Duke of Calabria - Prince Carlos of Bourbon-Two Siciles (Don Carlos, Prince of Bourbon-Two Sicilies, Infante of Spain) - Prince Ranieri, Duke of Castro - Prince Januarius, Count of Caltagirone - Prince Philip of Bourbon-Two Sicilies - Prince Gabriel of Bourbon-Two Sicilies - Infante Alfonso, Duck of Calabria - Prince Ferdinand, Duke of Castro - Prince Antoine of Bourbon-Two Sicilies - Prince Casimir of Bourbon-Two Sicilies - Infante Carlos, Duke of Calabria - Prince Carlo, Duke of Castro - Prince Pedro, Duke of Noto

Wow. Lots of Damon's "cousins" all have the name Maria in there name. For longest name, check out Prince Pasquale, Count of Bari. He had an older brother who's name was Prince Giuseppe. His mother was Maria Theresa of Austria and his father was Ferdinand II of the Two Sicilies. He also married a woman who wasn't a princess. (Gee, I wonder where my inspiration came from.)

Good news... We're moving into a bigger place with hug closets and multiple bathrooms so we can all have our own bathrooms now. And we're getting a new roomie, who's one of my oldest best friends which makes me absolutely ecstatic.

Bad news... What this means for you guys is sadly no more chapters for a little while. Yup, I know. I'm sorry. I've also been neglecting my other story while writing this and need to start writing the next chapter for that.

More good news... I'm over my cold, finally! I was a bit more focused to write this chapter.

Bad news... Because I am now focused, I would really appreciate knowing what you guys think of this chapter. Wait, how is this bad news?

Okay, the real bad news... we won't have Internet yet in our new house. :( When we will, I'll have to focus a bit more on school work.

Good news... I will be able to get the chapter out to you quicker with a little help on your parts. Review. I want to have 40 reviews before I post the next chapter.

So here's some starter prompts for everyone...

1.) I really liked how you...

2.) Titanic is sinking! Did you see that ship that sunk off the coast of Italy and the people described it as "Have you seen Titanic? It was just like that!"

3.) See number 2.

4.) I wish you hadn't made...

5.) Why couldn't you have made...

6.) I love... (add something that happened.)

7.) See number 6. Add character name instead.

8.) Should I have added Jack and Rose in the car and them running into Elijah instead of Elena and Damon? (I think that would have been funnier. That gave me a great idea for a cross-over story!)

9.) Make your own prompt!

10.) See number 9.

Now you really have no reason to not got and review. You have 10 (7) great prompts to review with. Remember 40 reviews minimum. (Through 45 would really inspire me to get the chapter up quicker, like before we move next Saturday quicker. It all depends on how much you want to read the next chapter.)

Review and tell your friends!


	14. Chapter 14

Wow, so this chapter took me a while. The sinking is suck a hard scene to right because it is so tragic that you have to get it just right.

My heart really goes out to all of the victims and their families of the Costa Concordia.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Caroline's dress. She's coming up in the next chapter. There is this chapter and the next before the epilogue, so our story with our wonderful, handsome Prince Damon, and our brilliant Klaus and Elijah (for mayor). That alone might make me cry!

I loved the last scene of two weeks ago on TVD, how Elijah was just standing there with the heart in his hand and Klaus is kind of just like staring and I'm thinking 'can hybrids go into shock?'

I'm giving you an instrumental song to look up on youtube and listen to with this chapter. It's called 'Rose'. It's by James Horner.

* * *

><p>As men, we are all equal in the presence of death. ~ Publilius Syrus<p>

In death we are all equal. ~ A Jewish Phrase

* * *

><p>People were jumping from the well deck, the poop deck, the gangway doors. Some hit debris in the water and the people were hurt or killed. Hundreds of passengers, clinging to every fixed object on the deck, huddled on their knees around Father Byles, who had his voice raised in prayer. They were praying, sobbing, or just staring at nothing, their minds blank with dread, fear overtaking them.<p>

The propellers were twenty feet above the water and rising faster. Elena's hand covered her mouth as she watched. On the other side of the wreck, Isobel was making the same gesture as her daughter. Damon looked onward in sheer horror and Klaus barked out to the two seamen to row faster. Alaric was unable to tear his glaze away from the picture before him of the ship straight in the water behind them, wondering if the young Count had made it from the accident. Tyler looked at the dying liner, then placed his hand on his friend's shoulder and they continued rowing away from the scene. Bonnie stared ahead, unblinking, remembering her mother was in there, along with countless others, all about to meet the same fate.

On the A Deck promenade, passengers lost their grips and slid down the wooden deck like it were a giant children's slide, slipping hundreds of feet down before they hit the water. Emily Bennett, Isobel's maid and Bonnie's mother, slipped as she struggled along the railing, and slid away screaming.

The propellers were one hundred feet out of the water and they rising. People clung to the rail that Elena once tried to fling herself from. Others leapt from the poop deck rail, screaming as they fell, and then hit the water like mortar rounds. A man fell from the poop deck, hitting the bronze hub of the starboard propeller with a sickening smack, leaving a line of red and he fell into the ocean.

Swimmers in the water looked up and saw the stern rising up, the propellers reaching for the stars and swam faster.

* * *

><p>Isobel listened as the sounds of the dying ship and the screaming people came across the water. Titanic's lights were still blazing, reflecting in the still water and moonless night. Its stern was high in the air, angled up over forty-five degrees as if Titanic was a toy boat that a child was carelessly playing with and left it there like that. The propellers were one hundred fifty feet out of the water, rising about frantic people. Over a thousand passengers clung to the decks, looking from a distance more like a beehive and a swarm of bees. The image was unbelievable, unthinkable. Isobel stared at it in utter shock, unable to put the tragedy into any proportions.<p>

"God almighty," Margaret Brown whispered beside her. The great liner's lights flickered.

* * *

><p>In the darkness in the ship, Chief Engineer Bell hung onto a pipe at the master breaker panel as his men climbed through tilted cyclopean machines with electric hand torches. Water sprayed down as pipes broke, hitting the breaker panel, but Bell would not leave his post. The breakers kicked. He slammed them in again and there was a blast of light. Something melted, and arcing filled the engine room with nightmarish light before the lights finally went out and the Titanic became no more than a vast black silhouette against the starlight background.<p>

* * *

><p>In Collapsible C, J. Bruce Ismay had his back to the ship, unable to watch the great steamer die along with hundreds of people. Even though his eyes were averted, he couldn't block out the sounds of the dying people and machinery aboard the ship and in the water, he couldn't block out the looks of horror on his boat mates' faces.<p>

* * *

><p>A loud cracking came across the water and the deck split near the third funnel. A chasm opened with a thunder of breaking steel. Men fell into the chasm to their deaths. The people falling looked more like dolls than human beings.<p>

Fires, explosions, and sparks lit the gapping chasm as the hull split down through nine decks to the keel. The sea poured into the gaping wound. It looked like a portal straight to hell.

Workers screamed as the immense machinery came apart around them, steel frames twisting like bits of taffy. Their torches illuminated the foaming blackness that overtook them as they tried to climb.

The stern half of the ship was almost four hundred feet long in length. Damon looked in repulsion as he spotted a little girl, Annabel Wu, trying to bob above the freezing water in her lifebelt. Without thinking, he dove off the boat and into the icy ocean with little regard for himself. He heard Elena scream, heard her fighting someone who was holding her back, as the water splashed in his ears. Swimming faster than he had in his life, he grabbed the five-year-old and swam in the opposite direction. He ignored the screams from above as he unhooked her lifebelt when he saw the ship coming down on them and said, "Hold your breath, Anna, and don't let go on my hand." They propelled themselves beneath the unforgiving surface as the stern nearly missed them.

"Damon!" Elena screamed in pain, lunging towards the two figures that went under. Klaus grabbed her around the waist to hold her back as she fought him, yelling at him to let go, ignoring as she beat on his arms with her fists. Finally, as she watched her husband submerge beneath the surface, she began to break down.

* * *

><p>The stern pushed out a mighty wave of displaced water, Anna and Damon in it. They emerged from the port side of the stern, gasping heavily. They then started swimming as fast as they could, the horrible mechanics about to play out. The stern was rapidly tilted up by the weight of the flooded bow.<p>

Everyone was cling to benches, railing, ventilators, anything to keep them from sliding as the massive stern was lifted again. The farther up it went, the louder people seemed to scream, sliding and tumbling, flailing to grab something, anything, to help postpone their death. They wrenched other people loose and they fell forward with them. There were a large number of bodies clinging to the stern's forward rail.

The stern was now straight up in the air. It hung there, as if it were a note in sustain. People who didn't climb over the railing hung and fell one by one, plummeting down the vertical face of the poop deck. Some bounded sickeningly off of deck benches and ventilators.

Damon anticipated the stern's final sinking and yelled at Anna to swim faster. They weren't going to make it back to the lifeboat as the stern's plunge gathered speed. Both him and the little girl taking another deep breath, they disappear with the liner under the water. Where the ship has stood, there was nothing, only the black ocean.

Bodies were whirled and spun, some struggling, others like limps dolls, as the vortex sucked them down and tumbled them like a vision out of a horror movie or some Greek tragedy. Damon kicked hard for the surface, holding little Anna tightly, pulling her up.

At the surface, it was chaos of screaming, thrashing people. Thousands were now floating where the ship went down. Some were stunned and gasping for breath. Some were praying, others were crying and moaning, screaming and shouting. Damon and Anna surfaced amongst them. They hardly had time to gasp for air before people were clawing at them. Some had already frozen to death, and Damon removed the lifebelt from two, putting them on him and Anna.

A man pushed little Anna under, trying to get onto anything. Damon punched him hard in the face and pulled her free. "Swim, Anna! Swim!"

She tried, but her strokes were not as effective as Damon's because of her tiny arms trying the reach the water in the lifebelt. "Keep swimming. Keep moving. Come on, you can do it."

It would have been so easy to give up, with nothing but blackness stretching as far as the eye could see, but somehow, Damon found the will to keep going.

"Look for something floating. Some debris...wood...anything."

"It cold, Daiwin," the little girl said, mispronouncing his name.

"I know it is. I know. Help me, here. Look around." His words helped to keep her mind off the cold for a bit. She let out a shriek as the black French bulldog swam at her like a sea monster. Beyond it, something was floating in the water.

"What that?" she asked, pointing. They made for it together. It was a piece of wooden debris. Damon slid on, laying on his back, and pulled the little girl onto his stomach to keep her from the water. She clung to him. "Where my mommy, Daiwin?"

"I don't know," he told her.

"We going to die?" The Count shook his head.

"Don't say that. We're both going to get out of this and be nice and safe on land."

Nearby, a ship's officer, Chief Officer Wilde, was blowing his whistle, knowing the sound out carry for miles over the water.

"The boats will come back for us, Anna. Hold on just a little longer. They had to row away for the suction and now they'll be coming back."

She nodded, his words helping her. She was shivering uncontrollably, her lips blue and her teeth chattering. He rubbed her arms up and down, trying to warm the little girl. People were still screaming, calling to the lifeboats.

* * *

><p>In Boat 6, Isobel had covered her ears against the wailing in the darkness. The first class women in the boat sat, stunned, listening to the sound of dying hundreds screaming, all knowing that could have been them.<p>

"They'll pull us right down, I tell you!" Hitchens told the woman.

"Aw, knock it off. You're scaring me. Come on, girls. Grab your oars. Let's go," Margaret argued. Nobody moved. "Well, come on!"

The women couldn't meet her eyes as they huddled into their ermine wraps.

"I don't understand a one of you. What's the matter with you? It's your men back there! We got plenty of room for more."

"If you don't shut that hole in your face, there'll be one less in this boat!" Hitchens snapped. Isobel stood suddenly.

"Pass me an oar, Maggie. My daughter could be in there." Maggie grinned triumphantly and handed Isobel the oar. Trudie Peterson stood.

"Pass two oars this way," she said, passing an oar to Honoria Fells. More women followed their example, making room for survivors to crowd into the boat. Defeated, Hitchens sat down. The woman began to row back towards the wreckage.

* * *

><p>In Boat 1, Sir Cosmo and Lucille Duff-Gordon sat with ten other people in a boat that was mostly empty. It was meant to hold forty people. They were two hundred yards from the screaming in the darkness.<p>

"We should do something," Fireman Hendrickson said.

Lucille squeezed Cosmo's hand and pleaded to him with her eyes. She was terrified. ""It's out of the question," Sir Cosmo told them.

The crewmembers agreed. They hunched together guiltily, hoping the terrible sounds would stop soon.

* * *

><p>Twenty boats, most half full, floated in the darkness. None of them made a move other than Lifeboat 6 towards the other boats, looking for survivors farther out.<p>

Damon floated on the board with Anna on his belly. "Daiwin, tell me a stowee."

"Well, once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl, a Countess. She wished for a handsome young man to sweep her away, but he never seemed to be coming. There was a young man, a Count of another land, who had been in love with her for as long as he could remember, but was so afraid of her, he didn't make a move."

"Why was he afwaid if he wuv her?"

"Because, her momma was a princess, a beautiful princess."

"Did she wive in a castle?"

"A big, beautiful castle, complete with a vineyard, a mote, and a stable full of purebred horses…"

"Lots of ponies?" Damon smiled.

"Yeah, lots of ponies." He looked up at the stars, "So anyways, the Count, he had a friend who plotted with the Countess to get them together, so his friend wrote the Countess a letter pretending to be the Count and she responded to the letter."

"Was he angwee at his fwiend?" Damon shook his head.

"No, he was stunned that she had wrote to him. He wrote back and within the year, they were engaged to be married."

"What happened? Did they mawwee and wive happwee evew afwer?" Damon smiled sadly at the sky.

"They're together forever and ever. They can never be separated," he said, not wanting to tell her the truth.

"It getting quiet," she whispered, minutes later.

"Just a few more minutes. It'll take them a while to get the boats organized..."

"The man with the whistle is sweeping." Damon turned his head and saw that Officer Wilde had died from exposure.

"I don't know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all this," he laughed weakly, "I know my papà will have a thing or two to say to them."

"If we don't find Mommy, will you be my new Daddy?" Damon smiled sadly at the little girl, hugging her to him, trying to keep her warm.

"I'll be your new Daddy, Anna. Elena will be your new Momma too. Is that okay?"

"That okay. I love you, Daiwin," she said, her eyelids beginning to droop.

"No!" he said, and her eyes blinked open, "Don't go to sleep on me! Don't give up."

"But I cold."

"I know you're cold, but you're going to get out of this. We're going to get out of here and I'll take you to a big house in America with large fireplaces, and warm beds, and lots of ponies and you can have your own. You're going to grow up and meet boys and break their hearts, and get married and you'll have lots of children, and you'll die an old lady, warm in her bed, but not here. Do you understand me?"

"I can't feel my body, Daiwin."

"You must do me this honor and keep this promise from a very handsome prince from far, far away." He was going to try everything to keep Anna awake, even if he had to stoop as low as using this. Sure enough, the little girl's eyes opened wide, staring at him in wonder.

"From a pwince?"

"That's right, from a prince… and he wanted me to make you promise that you will survive… and that you will never give up… no matter what happens… no matter how hopeless… promise me now."

"I pwomise."

"Never let go of it."

"I pwomise. I nevew wet go, nevew, evew wet go," she said, more cheerful now. She grabbed one of his large hands in both of hers. It became quiet now, except for the lapping of the water.

* * *

><p>Fifth Officer Lowe had gotten Boats 10, 12, and Collapsible D together with his own Boat 14. He got everyone to hold the boats together, and was transferring passengers from 14 into the others, to empty his boat for a rescue attempt.<p>

The women stepped gingerly across into the other boats and he saw a shawled figure in too much of a hurry. He ripped off the shawl and he stared into the face of a man. He angrily shoved the stowaway into another boat and turned to his crew of three.

"Right, man the oars."

The beam of an electric torch carried across the water like a searchlight as Boat 14 came through the water. The torch illuminated the floating debris, an emotion trail of wreckage: a violin, a child's wooden soldier, a framed photo of a steerage family, a wooden Biography camera.

Then came the first bodies. The people had frozen to death. Some looked as if they had merely fallen asleep, others stared up at the stars. The bodies became to thick to row without hitting the heads of floating men and women. A seaman threw up at the sight. Lowe saw a mother with her arms frozen around a lifeless baby, trying to protect the child from the cold all around them.

"We waited too long," he said softly, wanting to throw up as well.

Anna woke from her nap against Damon's warm chest. She had been lulled to sleep by his soft heartbeat and woken to him having a fit in his dream, calling for a woman who she could only guess to be his mother into the night. Anna stared over the bodies. She knew she would be dying. It was a miracle she wasn't already dead. She couldn't feel her arms and there was frost crystals stuck to her eyelashes and hair. Her lips barely moved as she sang a song Damon had taught her.

"Come Wosewine in my fwying machine…"

Their raven hair was dusted with those little frost crystals, making them appear to be unearthly beings, her breathing shallow and nearly motionless. In seeming slow motion, she saw the silhouette of a boat coming near. She saw men rowing it slowly, lifting the oars out of the syrupy water. The men sounded slow and distorted.

The lookout flashed his torch toward her and she reached toward the pretty light. The boat was fifty feet away, and moving past her. The men looked away. Suddenly snapping to, she shook Damon awake. He wasn't waking up. Was it too late for him too?

"Daiwin, wake up! Daiwin, thewe's a boat!"

Slowly, the man blinked opened his pretty blue eyes and looked at her.

"Daiwin, thewe's a boat." He turned suddenly.

"Come on," he told her, off the board and into the water. She followed and shivered. How was Daiwin not cold, she wondered, how was he not frozen like ewewyone else. He swam to the man with the whistle and yanked the whistle from his hand, blowing it hard and loud. Anna clung to his shirt, unable to do much else. The sound slapped across the still water.

In Boat 14, Lowe whipped around at the sound of the whistle. He turned the tiller. "Row back! That way! Pull!"

Damon kept blowing as the boat came to them and Anan continued to cling to the man. He was still blowing the whistle when Lowe lifted Anna from his back, wrapping the tiny child in a blanket and helping Damon aboard. They scrambled to cover him with blankets as he fought unconsciousness.

"The other boats," he asked, "Collapsible C, did it make it away okay?" he asked Lowe, not seeming very regal at the moment.

"They're okay, son."

"Not that young," he muttered, pulling Anna's blanketed form to him, "I'm twenty."

"Get some rest. You're safe now." Damon nodded tiredly.

"That's good. Papà will be happy. Grand-mére and Nonno won't have to hold another funeral so soon," he muttered as he drifted into a dream world.

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><p>Klaus held Elena to him, making room for her next to him. She was still cold, but at least she had fallen asleep before the sounds of the people in the water lost their voice as they slowly froze to death. She didn't have to think about her lover, now probably dead under the Atlantic's surface after the stern fell. He was jealous that she had chosen a steerage man over him.<p>

Klaus couldn't sleep. Someone had to come for them. What felt like lifetimes later, the Carpathia showed itself from the distance, and he allowed himself to finally relax.

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><p>I replaced Rose with Anna for the sinking. I didn't want Damon to die. Do you have a problem about that? If you do, tell me in a nice little review!<p>

Ok, so depressing chapter. Reviews make me happy. 50 reviews before the next chapter! If I get 55 reviews on this story, I'll stop working on Where We Begin and finish up the next chapter. :) (I feel so uninspired at the moment. How awful is that?)


	15. Chapter 15

Okay, so I was so excited about this chapter, that I wrote it to quickly and decided to post. I had originally planned to post the last chapter on April 10, and the epilogue on April 15, but it didn't go as slow as I had planned. Yup, this is the last chapter. I have an epilogue that I'm finishing up.

This chapter is written more as flashes. Everyone is sort of all over the place and I wanted to show that.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>The group was staring at Elena and Damon with a multitude of expressions. Some were shock, others horror, most sadness. When the story continued, it was Damon that spoke, instead of Elena.<p>

"Fifteen hundred people went into the sea when Titanic sank from under us. There were twenty boats floating nearby, and only one came back. One. Seven were saved from the water, including Annabel and I. Seven, out of fifteen hundred."

As he spoke, he paused to let his words sink in. Elena looked slowly across the faces of Katherine and the salvage crew on the Keldysh. Stefan, Jeremy, Trevor, and the others… the reality of what had happed hit them for the first time. With the couple's story, they felt like grave robbers. With the couple's story, they had been on Titanic in its final hours. For the first time, Stefan forgot the diamond.

"I have never been as scared as I was that night," Elena said softly, "In the lifeboat, believing Damon to be dead. That was the first time in my life I ever realized that Klaus did truly care for me, when he stopped me from going in after Damon. I would have been killed. I would have never been able to swim fast enough. Afterward, the seven hundred people in the boats had nothing to do but wait...wait to die, wait to live, wait for an absolution which would never come."

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><p>The faces of the saved were solemn as the melancholy set it. They sat in the lifeboats, waiting for someone to save them. They were so quiet, most seemed to be sleeping, but they weren't.<p>

Ismay was in a trance, trembling and staring ahead. Klaus sipped from a hip flask offered to him by a black-faced stoker before passing it to Elena who had woken with a dead look on her face. Isobel hugged herself, rocking gently. Alaric soothed a child's cries for their father as Tyler comforted countless woman aboard their boat about their husbands, reading Bible verses to them from a pocket Bible that he had with him.

In Boat 14, Damon lay with the blanket wrapped around him. He had woken again as the little girl in his arms had hit him again in another restless dream. Her glossy black hair fell from the blanket that she was swaddled in, her face as white as the moon. A man next to him jumped up, pointing and yelling. Elijah sat in the boat with them, not even noticing the man and the little girl in the blanket. He had somehow managed to have not died from exposure. He wrapped the blanket tighter around him. In another boat, shouts of excitement and joy came across the water. As the word spread, so did the thrilled feelings that came to them. To Elena, everything was silent and in slow motion as the people stood and cheered. She wished she had jumped with Damon. She wanted to be dead with Damon.

Lowe lit a green flare and shot into the air it as everyone shouted and cheered. Elena didn't react. She had turned off any human emotion.

Golden light washed across the white boats floating in the calm sea the color of the rosy sky. Around them floated icebergs. The survivors could see the Carpathia from where it sat nearby and lifeboats rowed toward her.

The ship's hull loomed overhead as Collapsible C reached it, the letters Carpathia visible on the bow. Elena watched blank faced, her small bag with the clothes in it wrapped around her wrist, helped by seamen and Klaus up the rope ladder, other survivors following, to the Carpathia' gangway doors.

Woman hugged each other and cried. Trudie Peterson saw young Elena and hugged her, causing Elena to feel the first emotion in hours, confusion.

"Who are you?" she whispered, hardly able to find her voice.

"I was on the lifeboat with your mother," she said smiling sadly before she suddenly shouted, "Elizabeth Forbes!"

"Trudie!" Elizabeth hugged the woman. "You're alive. When Caroline and Jenna and I heard the news this morning, we were sure…" he conversation faded into the distance in Elena's ears. A blonde girl with bouncy curls hugged her.

"Do I know you?" Elena asked, her voice a bit stronger.

"No," the girl said softly, "I'm Caroline Forbes. You must be Elena. Ms. Peterson and Mrs. Fells told us about you. Mother told me to take you to our cabin and let you put on some warm clothes and get some rest." Elena nodded, letting the bubbly blonde guide her to their cabin.

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><p>J. Bruce Ismay climbed aboard the ship, guided by a crewman towards the doctor's cabin as he took the Walk of Shame, unable to meet their accusing gazes. He had abandoned the ship, a thousand or so others dying. Better men than him met their watery graves during the night. He could have sworn he heard someone mutter "coward" under their breath as he past by. And really, that's all he was. He was no hero and he knew it. He knew it.<p>

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><p>Alaric and Tyler followed Honoria Fells to the cabin of Elizabeth and Caroline Forbes, a first class mother and daughter aboard this ship and was relieved to find Elena fast asleep in Caroline's bed, Bonnie and Caroline calmly sipping tea. Caroline hand her feet resting on one of the other chairs' arms, her stocking showing and shoes on the floor beside her. Jenna entered the room and told Elizabeth, Honoria and Trudie that she had found Joseph's cousin who was coming to see Joseph's estate. Elizabeth, Trudie, Honoria rushed out and Bonnie offered the Jenna a cup of tea. Jenna laughed, telling Bonnie to sit down and relax. Alaric pulled out a chair for her, and she took it, wide eyed.<p>

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><p>Damon and Anna were helped onto the ship. They were draped with blankets and given hot tea. A man ran towards them, a steward, and helped the two stand, saying he had specific instructions to bring them somewhere. He led them to the first class room of Jenna Sommers and knocked three times. She opened the door and welcomed them in and he soon understood why. In chairs, Alaric and Tyler sat.<p>

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><p>Elijah found Klaus standing awkwardly on the deck, amidst the confusion of the survivors. The deck was crammed with huddled people, and the recovered lifeboats of Titanic. On a hatch cover, there was an enormous pile of lifebelts. The two men talked for a minute before Klaus sent Elijah to find Isobel amongst the survivors.<p>

It was late afternoon before Elena walked out, dressed in one of Caroline's dresses. She saw Klaus, only moments after the valet had left, and walked over to him, thanking him for stopping her. He nodded. He asked her if she was going to stay with him when they landed and she told him that she needed some time away, time to find herself again. He nodded numbly as she pulled the expensive engagement ring from her bag and placed it in his hand, closing his hand tightly around the ring. She walked away and never heard him whisper that he loves her. She didn't need to hear him. He had seen she had a new ring that had taken its spot on her finger.

When Elijah appeared again with his ex-fiancée's mother, Klaus told them Elena had died in the sinking.

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><p>Damon woke in a panic. Anna was gone, Ric was nowhere to be seen, and Tyler was gone. Jenna had disappeared as well. He heard the door open and was attacked with kisses and was squeezed tightly.<p>

"You are so stupid!" Elena muttered between kisses, "Don't ever scare me like that again," she said softly before pressing a hard kiss to his lips.

Damon savored that kiss. It was hard and clumsy and awkward, but it was the best thing he had ever felt. When they pulled back, his lovely wife rested her forehead against his, panting.

"We're supposed to be outside on the deck," she murmured, "All survivors will be kept separated from the passengers on board," she said in a voice that clearly mimicked someone else. Damon nodded.

"I need to find Alaric anyways." She grinned, clearly thrilled to have found him, and pulled his arm until he was sitting up in bed. They both were laughing and kissing and holding each other close when Jenna walked in and smack the back of the prince's head.

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><p>On deck, Damon found Alaric and Tyler, both in a better mood than they were on the previous boat, in the steerage section, helping to comfort and take care of passengers. His wife took off to help with other passengers. His father would love her, Damon knew, for she had that same generous spirit his mother had. Anna was trying to make people laugh, and her and the other children were acting ridiculous to do so.<p>

"You won't find any of your people back here, sir. It's all steerage," Damon heard a steward tell a tuxedoed man he recognized as Klaus. Klaus waved off the steward and spotted Damon and approached.

"Yes, I lived," Damon said, "How terribly awkward for you."

"Whatever happens between you and Elena, you better take care of her. She's worth it." Damon smiled.

"I know."

"She doesn't have a cent to her name either," he warned.

"I don't love her because she's first class or because I would have assumed she had money. I love her because I love her, simple as that." Klaus nodded.

"Under other circumstances, I might have liked you. Dare I say it, we might have been friends." Damon chuckled.

"And maybe, if the circumstances were different, I might have met Elena first and our situations might have been reverse. But it was because she was stuck in that awful first class world she needed me, so I am grateful to you for that." Klaus nodded, wondering where this steerage man was going with this. "I will take care of her, not because you want me to, but because I want to. I will treat her every bit like a princess that she is, because that is what she deserves, but at least with me, she'll be free to leave when she wants. Goodbye, Mr. von Swartzchild." Elijah joined his boss beside him and Damon turned to him. "Signor Smith, of the London Smiths," Damon greeted pleasantly, "I was asked to give you this small token from Elena and I to show our appreciation..." Damon mimicked to Elijah. He punched the valet in the stomach hard enough so that the older man fell over, clutching his stomach and gasping. "Compliments of the DeSangues," he told the valet before calmly walking away. The two men gapped.

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><p>Elena stood at the railing of the Carpathia, at nine PM on April eighteenth. She gazed up at the Statue of Liberty as if it were welcoming her home with her glowing torch. A set of arms wrapped around her waist and she leaned her head back onto Damon's shoulder.<p>

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><p>The Carpathia disgorged the survivors at the Cunard pier, Pier 54. Over thirty thousand people lined the docks and filled the surrounding streets, all wanting to see their loved ones or know what happened, who lived. The magnesium flashes of the photographers went off like small bombs, leaving white spots in her vision. Damon's hand kept in hers the entire time, Alaric carrying Anna and Tyler following behind them.<p>

Several hundred police had to kept the mob back. The dock was packed with friends and relatives, officials, ambulances, and the press.

Reporters and photographers swarmed everywhere. This was the story of the decade… of the century, and they all wanted the scoop. They pushed to try to get close to survivors, shouting over each other to ask them questions.

Elena's hair was covered with a woolen shawl, Damon's with a hat, as was Alaric's. Elena hadn't seen her mother to say goodbye. Immigration officers were asking them questions as they came off the gangway.

"Name?" One asked Damon.

"Damon Francesco DeSangue."

"Name?" Another asked Elena.

"Elena DeSangue." Damon looked at Elena with shock clear in his eyes, "I jump, you jump," is all she said.

"What her name?" he asked Damon, pointing to the little girl that looked a bit like him.

"Annabel W-"

"DeSangue," Anna jumped in, saying. The officer steered them towards a holding area for processing. They walked with dazed immigrants, who were overwhelmed by the scene. The boom of photographers' magnesium flashes caused them to flinch, and the glare was blinding, but Damon's hand always stayed in her hand.

Sudden disturbance came as two men burst through the cordon, running to embrace an older woman among the survivors, who cried out with joy. The reporters loved such an emotional scene, flashes exploding. Damon, Elena, Alaric, Anna, Tyler, and Bonnie, who had somehow found them, used this moment to their advantage to slip away into the crowd, pushing through jostling people, moving with purpose, none challenging them in the confusion.

They walked away, further and further until the flashes and the roar were far behind them. Tears seeped down Elena's cheeks as the thoughts of the past few days set in. Alaric offered Elena a pocket hankie, with she took thankfully, wiping her eyes before they continued walking and never looked back.

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><p>Elena sat with the group on the boat, decades after the accident, lit by the blue of the screens. Damon held her hand, never letting go. She held the hair comb with the jade butterfly on the handle in her other gnarled hand.<p>

The Mir submersibles made their last pass over the ship. They heard Yuri the pilot on the UQC.

"Mir 1 returning to surface."

The sub rose off the deck of the wreck, taking its light with it, leaving the Titanic once again in its fine and private darkness.

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><p>A halfhearted wrap party for the expedition was in progress. There was music and some of the co-ed Russian crew was dancing. Jeremy was getting drunk.<p>

Stefan stood at the rail, looking down into the black water. Katherine came to him, offering him a beer. He took it and she laid her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry."

"It was never there and your grandma was our last hope but-" Stefan shook his head, taking a swig of the beer. "Oh!"

Elena walked through the shadows of the deck machinery. Her nightgown blew in the wind, feet bare. Her hands were clutched at her chest. Damon stood behind her, walking with her, wearing pajamas with no shoes.

Stefan and Katherine glanced at each other, running as fast as they could from the top deck. Elena reached the stern rail, her gnarled fingers wrapped over the rail and her ancient feet stepping onto the gunwale. Damon stood behind her, not stopping her. Katherine and Stefan raced to her.

"Grandma, wait! Don't-"

Elena turned her head, looking at them. She reached her hand out over the railing, over the ocean, holding something shiny in her hand.

"Don't come any closer." Damon stepped closer to his wife, as if protecting her.

Stefan's eyes were fixed on her hand and his eyes were wide, like a child on Christmas morning, his present so close but so far.

"You had it the entire time?" Katherine asked. She started laughing like a madwoman.

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><p>In Elena's mind's eye, her and her group were walking away from Pier 54. The photographers' flashes went off like an ongoing battle behind them. She had her hands in her pockets, still unable to get the chill out of her from days before. She stopped suddenly, and Tyler walked into the back of her. Damon looked at her confused, as did Alaric. Anna's large eyes were fixed on Elena with child-like admiration.<p>

Elena pulled the necklace from her pocket and her companions stared in amazement.

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><p>Back at the Pier 54, Klaus searched his pockets again after Elijah had told him that he hadn't found the diamond in the vault and this time, he froze.<p>

"What's wrong, boss?"

"I put the diamond in my coat pocket. And I put my coat...on her." He turned to Elijah, laughing like a crazy person, "I just gave them a great wedding present!" He said as he continued laughing. A wall of a building was next to where Klaus and Elijah were, and he punched it, crying out, "I am so stupid!"

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><p>On Keldysh, Elena smiled at Stefan's incomprehension. "Even in the worst times, during the Depression, during the World Wars, when we seemed to have nothing, it was hard to think how rich we really were. But every time I thought of selling it, I thought of Klaus, and somehow, we were able to get by just fine without his help."<p>

Jeremy and a couple of the other guys came up behind Stefan, staring at what was in Elena's hand.

"I offered it back to him once and he said no. He said it was a gift to me and he didn't want it, because every time he would see it, he would think of me and he'd think of Damon and so he told me to keep it, and I did."

"Don't drop it, Elena," Stefan said as Jeremy whispered to Stefan, "Rush her."

"It's hers," Turning back to Elena, he said, "Look, Elena, I...I don't know what to say to a woman who tries to jump off the Titanic when it's not sinking… then tries to jump in after it as it's going down… we're not dealing with logic here, I know that… but please… think about this a second."

"She has," Damon spoke, "We came all this way so she could put it back where it belongs."

The massive diamond glittered. Stefan edged closer slowly, holding out his hand. "Please, just one second, let me just hold it in my hand, Elena. Just one, please."

He came closer to her, and it was like when Damon had moved up to her at the stern of Titanic. Surprisingly, she placed the massive stone into his palm while still holding onto the necklace. Stefan gazed into the diamond's red depths that seemed to be more black that red, as if it held all of his answers. It was mesmerizing. It was everything he imagined.

"My God." His grip tightened on the diamond and he looked up, meeting her gaze.

"You look for treasure in the wrong place, Mr. Branson. Only life is priceless, and making each day count, but love is the greatest gift of all."

His fingers relaxed and he opened them slowly. She slipped the diamond out of his hand. He felt it sliding away.

Then, with an impish grin and a burst of youthfulness, Elena tossed the necklace a far as she could, a surprising distance, over the rail. Jeremy gave a strangled cry like a dying animal and rushed at the rail, watching it fade below the surface in horror, to disappear forever.

Stefan Branson's face went through many emotions before it settled on one… and he laughed. He laughed tears came to his eyes and he had to clutch his stomach to keep laughing. Finally, Then he turned to Katherine, holding out his hand, "Would you like to dance?"

Katherine gave a seductive little grin, and nodded. Elena smiled as Damon's arms wrapped around her waist and they gazed up into the night's sky at the stars.

In the depths of the ocean, the diamond sank, twinkling end over end, until it reached the bottom, landing miraculously on the top of Titanic's grand staircase, as if waiting for Elena to come pick it up once more.

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><p>On Elena's shelf of carefully organized and arranged pictures: Elena typing on a typewriter, publishing an article… Elena with Damon, his father, Anna and their eldest son… Damon and Elena and their five children, three sons and two lovely daughters, a official photo of the royal family… Elena and Damon and their children and Anna and grandchildren at their seventy-fifth anniversary.<p>

One picture in particular stood out. Elena, circa 1913. She was at Joseph's house in Mystic Falls, Virginia, on a horse in trousers, one hand on her bulging stomach, the other gripping the reins. She was grinning proudly, full of life, smiling at the man behind the camera's lens.

Elena and Damon lay warm in their bunk, much like Ida and Isador Straus the night Titanic had sank all those years ago. They were intertwined, very much in love, and very still. They could be sleeping, or maybe it was something else…

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><p>Sorry to those who wanted me to redeem Elijah. I just couldn't. Lovejoy was such an unlikable character and when I stuck him in that position, I just couldn't do it. But at least I didn't kill him! He could have died in the sinking, but no, I dramatically changed history by saving three more people. Poor Cora died in the movie (in case you guess didn't realize, that was who Anna's movie counterpart was) and Jack. But I save Damon, Anna, and Elijah (it's something James Cameron couldn't do!) I redeemed Klaus, sort of. I have the epilogue written for the most part, other than some tweaking and some rewriting here and there.<p>

Review! Review if you'd like a "mini" continuation of post-Titanic experience with our favorite TVD characters. I already have the basis of it kind of set out in my mind, but I want to know if you guys are interested in reading that. It wouldn't be right after the Titanic, maybe some ten, twenty, thirty years later. I'd make Elijah much more likable even (maybe). After all, he nearly died then got punched in the stomach by a Count/Prince who he thought was steerage. (If that's not a slap in the face, I don't know what is.) The story's almost over, but it doesn't have to end! It's all up to you. Make sure you vote on it in the poll in my profile if you're just not into reviewing.

Mainly though, just **_review_**! 60 reviews to epilogue!


	16. Epilogue

Last chapter. This is the epilogue. It is like the movie's ending, but I changed a thing or two here and there. It's short and to the point. I actually wrote this a few days ago, but I've been changing things around here and there.

So all of us here have had real depressing week. Mandie, my best friend, had to go back to England yesterday when she got a call that her mom is in the hospital with cancer. They didn't catch it quick enough, so her mom's cancer is really far progressed. She's probably not going to make it. She has been a second mom to me. Poor Mandie didn't take the news well either. Her mother is so sweet and didn't deserve any of this. So keep her family in your thoughts and prays. I know they'll all appreciate your support. I'll pass it along to them.

Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed. I feel really blessed. Keep an eye out for any new stories that I may post. I'm not sure what I'm going to write next. I'm still working on the Where We Begin, A Hybrid and a Doppleganger, and What If, so look out for updates on those.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Blackness. Complete blackness.<p>

The wreck of Titanic loomed like a ghost in the dark, lit by a kind of moonlight.

Damon and Elena stood at the doors of the First Class Entrance. The sounds of a distant waltz could be heard. A pair of stewards opened the doors for them.

Damon was dressed in white tie dress, Elena in an evening gown, a small glittering tiara upon her head. He escorted her in to the foyer, which lit by glowing chandeliers. The music was vibrant now, and the room was populated by men in white tie and tailcoats and top hat, women in their evening gowns. It was exquisitely beautiful. A night straight from the past.

Alaric stood by the staircase, Jenna beside him on his arm. Anna and her young husband watched from above on the staircase. Tyler and Caroline were waiting patiently for the Prince and Princess of Bourbon-Two Sicilies, the former Count and Countess of Tuscany. Katherine's parents, Prince Paolo and Princess Helen of Bourbon- Two Sicilies, stood next to Helen's parents, the Lockwoods.

Isobel watched the scene with interest, with Mrs. Margaret Brown, the Countess of Rothes, Trudie Peterson, and Honoria Fells by her side, all laughing and talking happily. Thomas Andrews was smiling at Elena and Damon proudly. Bonnie and Emily Bennett waiting, Bonnie grinning excitedly, dressed in the attire of the first class as Bonnie said they once were. The Strauses watched with a smile. Wallace Hartley led his band in a lively waltz.

As Elena and Damon walked up the staircase, she paused, the giant diamond on the stair before her. Elijah knelt before her, lifting up the diamond to hand to her husband, who fastened it around her neck. No longer was the necklace a cold heart, rather a symbol of love. Klaus had loved Elena, no matter how awful he had been. She did love him too, once, a long time ago, but now her love, pure and true, ran only for the raven-haired man at her side, leading her up the staircase.

Klaus stood at the top of the staircase by the clock, his face cold and impassive until Elena hugged him and placed a kiss on his cheek, a girl of seventeen once more, just as Damon was once again twenty. He shook hands with the Prince, allowing him to take his wife back into his arms. Elena's lips met her husband's at the top of the Grand Staircase and her ex-fiancé smiled, having come to terms that Elena loved Damon, but once upon a time, she had loved him.

The passengers, officers, and crew of the RMS Titanic smiled and applauded in the utter silence of the abyss.

The End.

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><p>Don't forget to tell me what you thought of the story! (a.k.a. review)<p> 


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